


Burning Ambitions

by Lilykit627



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drama, Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, In Character, Ishbal | Ishval, Multi, Post-Canon, Racially-Motivated Violence, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-02
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2017-12-31 21:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 34
Words: 115,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilykit627/pseuds/Lilykit627
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riza Hawkeye and Scar watch as Roy Mustang works to achieve his goals.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rekindling

**Author's Note:**

> This story begins approximately five years after the Promised Day. It's in first-person POV, switching between Hawkeye and Scar's perspectives. This is not a happy story; consider yourself warned.

**Early September, 1918**

**Scar**

Four years ago, General Roy Mustang and his men moved to Ishval to begin the reconstruction of our homeland. He brought Lieutenant Colonel Miles so that our people would have a voice in the decisions regarding our future. I came with Miles, and from what I understood, Gen. Mustang was glad of my return. Mustang's team has been invaluable to us during the reconstruction. Thanks to Captains Breda and Havoc, we're taking full advantage of our natural resources, building an economy in trade with both Amestris and Xing. Our crops, wheat and cotton, are flourishing, and we have enough to keep stores as our population grows. Second Lieutenant Fuery has been irreplaceable in reaching out to our brethren scattered around the country, and thanks to his diligence, more and more refugees are returning home every day. First Lieutenant Falman, because of his experience in Briggs Command Center, has put his shoulder to the wheel wherever he is needed - one day, helping draw up a list of necessary materials for accommodating new arrivals, and the next, helping to separate cotton fibers from the seeds. Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye, while she never leaves the general's side, always makes an effort to greet each new arrival.

The general himself, while he is often heard complaining about his workload, always completes every task ahead of schedule. Some attribute this to the interference of Lt. Col. Hawkeye, but I know he does it out of his genuine desire to help the people of Ishval. After completing his work, he takes time to ensure his subordinates feel useful and supported. He is well loved by his men, as well as the Ishvallans.

In an effort to learn more about Ishvallan culture, he regularly sits down after dinner in my home, sometimes asking questions about what he's observed and other times, just listening to stories. When other Ishvallans heard about this, many came to join us, my master the most frequent visitor. Mustang listened to every story with interest and compassion, making everyone feel that their voice had been heard. It was on one such night, after my master had left, that the general revealed his plans for the future to me.

"Scar, there is something I want to discuss with you," he said as the curtain settled from my master's departure. His eyes had turned hard, a change from the kindness he had shown when listening to the others. Saying nothing, I sat down on the mat across from him and waited for him to continue. He closed his eyes briefly and looked to the floor, a slight frown on his face. "You have a right to know what my true ambitions are, why I was aiming for the top." Lt. Col. Hawkeye glanced at him, surprised. It was obvious that he had not told her he was planning on telling me this, which was unusual for the two of them. Most of the time, it seemed as if they shared one mind in two bodies.

I nodded, feeling that a verbal response would be inappropriate. Gen. Mustang sighed. "Lt. colonel, you may as well sit down." The woman knelt down on the mat beside him, keeping her back straight as she lowered herself, as Ishvallan women do. "You know Fuhrer Grumman is trying to make this country more democratic." Again, I nodded. It was often a topic of our discussions. Mustang smiled. "Yeah, I guess we've talked that one to death, haven't we? That was one of my original goals. But I intend to take it further than Grumman has when I reach the top." He drew a deep breath and released it. "I intend to hold trials for all those responsible for what happened in Ishval."

He stared directly into my eyes, trying to ascertain my reaction. I didn't move and returned his stare. But his eyes surprised me, the hardness replaced by grief. I had seen that look on many older Ishvallans, and I'd seen this man turn that into hope. When he didn't speak, Hawkeye looked at him with concern. She'd heard all of this before, and the way she held herself as he spoke, I could tell that this was a difficult subject for him to bring up.

When he spoke again, he lowered his eyes from my face and clenched his fists. "It is my intention to bring justice to the Ishvallans. I want to do more than restore your homeland. I want to set a standard for this country and make sure nothing like that ever happens again. What was done here was an abomination." His speech was halting, as if he struggled to release the words from his mouth.

By this point, I had realized where he was going with his speech. "And what about you, Mustang?" I asked. From the slope of his shoulders and the expression in his eyes, I knew he felt the weight of what he had done in Ishval to this day. I remembered hearing stories of the Flame Alchemist during the war. Even his own comrades were afraid of him. In some ways, he was more terrifying than the Crimson Alchemist, whose laughter would accompany destruction. The Flame Alchemist was quieter, more distant, when he killed you. Many of my brethren thought he might not be human, back during those times.

He drew breath as if to speak, but released it again. Straightening up his back and shoulders, he looked me in the eye. The hardness had returned. "I intend to stand trial for the crimes I committed in Ishval." No longer did the great general who led the coup against the homunculi sit before me. No, he was replaced by a young State Alchemist, accompanied by an even younger sniper, facing an Ishvallan monk, shame and guilt in every aspect of their existence. I admired them, for facing me as they did. They did not run away from what they had done; they didn't mitigate it considering their contribution to the reconstruction.

I let out a soft chuckle at the odd situation. Mustang blinked and Hawkeye looked confused. "If that is your intention, then don't back down, Flame Alchemist. Look your decision in the eye and accept it." Hawkeye's eyes widened at my comment.

"Is that your opinion?" Mustang asked.

"My opinion doesn't matter. You don't carry my guilt, and my life won't change if you go through with this." We understood each other, and smiled. I was familiar with the need to be held responsible for what you had done. I still felt the same way about returning to my homeland after living in a world of hatred. 

Mustang smirked. "No insisting that I'm foolish? No pleading with me to change my mind? I'm hurt." Hawkeye chuckled and rolled her eyes, and I grinned at the general.

"I won't shed a tear for you, general. Besides, we all know water is your downfall. I would have killed you that day, if the lt. colonel hadn't interfered." Laughing, the general and his subordinate stood to leave. "General," I started. They both turned to look at me. I dropped my smile as I said, "Thank you for confiding in me." I nodded my head in respect, and he gave me a sad smile as he left.

I was left wondering at the honor of a man who has achieved so much, yet can't move past the mistakes he made in his younger years. For all that I had done, I had never been brought to trial. And here was the Hero of Ishval, given medals for something he was now trying to undo.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

Leaving Scar's house, I glanced up at the general. His posture was set in a way I had become too familiar with over the years. A child ran out of the house in front of us, making the general stumble a bit. The child looked back over his shoulder and yelled, "Sorry!" but he didn't slow down. The general stopped and watched after the child, who ran far off down the street. His eyes softened as they followed the boy.

Knowing he had a need to make a small speech, I prompted, "Sir?"

"It's a wonderful thing, to see into the future, isn't it, lt. colonel?" He was thinking of that month when he was blind. Dr. Marcoh had used the last philosopher's stone from Ishval to restore his sight, and I knew a lot of his sense of responsibility to the Ishvallans came from that. When we'd been in the hospital for our injuries from that battle, he'd said that the loss of sight was what Truth gave to those who had a vision for the future. It was his vision for the future that kept me by his side.

"It is, sir." I answered. He looked over to me and smiled, which I returned. The boy had disappeared around the corner, and the general walked off in the direction of our quarters, located inside the military main base, away from the rest of the soldiers. Inside, Capt. Breda was on the radio with Central, trying to convince them to allocate more funding for us. He raised his hand to us in greeting when we passed through the doorway. In the break room down the hall, we found Havoc and Falman playing checkers. Black Hayate was sleeping in the corner, curled up with his mate, Chise. Havoc had brought the dog back from his time working at his family's store, and the two dogs seemed well suited to each other. They'd already had one litter of puppies, which had been adopted by various Ishvallan families, and they were expecting another.

The general cleared his throat, to which Falman shot out of his seat. He hadn't noticed our entrance and had trouble letting go of old habits. I looked disdainfully at the general. He knew Falman was a stickler for protocol, even when it wasn't necessary, and Gen. Mustang loved to pull his strings. Havoc just waved his hand, staring at the board. "Hey, Mustang."

Falman shot him a look, obviously displeased with his lack of respect. I rolled my eyes and knelt down in front of the dogs. Hayate lifted his head with a worried look, sensing my leftover concern from our discussion with Scar. Chise didn't move, but I understood that. Bearing puppies was tiresome work. I pet the top of Hayate's head until the worried look went away. Standing back up, I saw that the general had pulled up a chair to the table Havoc and Falman were competing over.

I approached their table, standing behind the general. "Care to take on the winner, Hawkeye?" Havoc asked, shooting me a grin. I always beat him whenever we sat down for a game.

I sighed. "Maybe if Lt. Falman wins this one. If you win, I don't think it would be enough of a challenge." Examining the board, I saw that the game was about even. I hadn't really seen Falman's skills at checkers before, and I was intrigued to notice he was leading Havoc into a trap. He was sneakier than he appeared.

Havoc's face dropped, but he somehow managed to keep the cigarette in his mouth. "You're so cruel!" he yelled, proceeding to fake tears.

"Havoc, you may need to focus on the game, rather than the lt. colonel." The general leaned forward, watching as Falman began his attack. Havoc's eyes widened, slowly realizing he'd been had. Falman sat back and crossed his arms, obviously pleased with himself. The captain's shoulders slumped as he made the only move he could, watching as the game went to the lieutenant. Falman took Havoc's last piece and smiled.

"Well, you turned out to be quite the strategist, Lt. Falman," the general said, impressed by Falman's win. Falman grinned at him, but that soon faded as Gen. Mustang said, "Now you can face the lt. colonel, if you're up for it." Both turned to look at me.

My shoulders slumped. I was the reigning champion of checkers in our squad, and I was tired of people challenging me or volunteering me for a game. However, I hadn't played Falman before. Presumably, he was too afraid of me. As it should be. Havoc got up and offered his seat to me. Falman began sweating, but his mouth was set. It would certainly be a change to play Falman. Sitting down in the seat Havoc had vacated, I waited as Falman reset the board. The general leaned back and put his hands behind his head. Havoc went to sit next to Falman on the two-seater.

When the game was ready, Gen. Mustang sat up to watch us, amusement in his eyes. I know he was looking forward to my struggle, but I wouldn't lose tonight. For the first few moves, Falman and I danced around each other, each trying to gauge each other's skills. I knew I could handle him. He may have been able to beat Havoc, but he was too subtle in his attacks. The red pieces piled up next to me. It was only a few minutes in that I realized what Falman was doing. He was going for a queen, and I couldn't stop him anymore. I was too confident, and I had missed his slow advance. I backed off, trying to cover my tracks. I heard the general snicker. Falman was good, better than any of the others I'd played against since we arrived here, but he'd lost too many of his pieces to win outright. He knew this, from the way his mouth set into a frown. He couldn't pull of the stategy he had on Havoc. But it would be difficult for me to pull out a win, as well.

The game continued for an hour, and Havoc had fallen asleep on the couch, mouth wide open with drool dripping onto his sleeve. We'd gone back to dancing around each other, knowing that anything more drastic would result in losing. Finally, the general stood up. "Just call it a draw, lt. colonel," he said, stretching his arms. "There's no shame in coming to a draw in checkers." I knew the general preferred chess and thought of checkers as a child's game, but checkers allowed for more direct strategy, whereas chess was full of deception. I grimaced and sighed. I couldn't give up that easily. If I just moved this piece here -

Falman sat back suddenly, disturbing Havoc's sleep. Sighing, he said, "I concede, lt. colonel." I looked up in surprise. He grinned sheepishly at me, and began clearing the board. I straightened my back, which I had been gradually hunching over as I'd gotten more absorbed in the game. "Maybe next time, we'll play this out to the end." The general nudged Havoc, who groaned.

"It's time we went back to our bunks," Gen. Mustang said, heading toward the door. "Good night, everyone." I heard him go to the main room, where Breda was still arguing over the radio. I glanced over to Black Hayate and Chise, who'd completely checked out for the night. I smiled at them, looking so peaceful together.

Falman saluted me, bringing me out of my drifting mind. I let out a small, contented sigh and saluted him back. After that little show of respect, Falman pulled Havoc up by the arm, pushin him off to the room the four men under Gen. Mustang shared. I headed out down the hallway to my room. I was one of the few that got my own room, partially because of my rank, and partially because of my sex. Gen. Mustang was waiting for me next to my door, something he didn't usually do.

"Can I help you, general?" I asked, reaching into my pocket for my keys.

The general didn't say anything for a while, but I didn't push him. He would say it when he was ready to, whatever it was. Sure enough, after a moment, he said, "What I said to Scar tonight, I should have warned you." I was a bit surprised. Surely, he knew me well enough to know that I would not object.

I unlocked my door as I answered, "It's fine, sir." I heard him let out a deep breath, and I looked up at him, worried.

He was looking far away from this place, through the floorboards, with the smile of a tired man. "We've seen a lot together, haven't we?" I didn't say anything, knowing he was saying something just for the sake of our companionship. He pushed off the wall and began walking away, patting my shoulder. "Sleep well, lt. colonel." I watched as he walked away, remembering how he'd changed from the boy poring over his alchemy notes on the kitchen table. Opening my door, I smiled. I'd stay with him until the end, whatever that end turned out to be.


	2. Flickering

**October 1918**

**Scar**

It had been just over a month now, since the conversation with the general. He never brought it up again, proceeding as if nothing had happened. I respected him all the more for that. With his example, I threw myself harder into the work in front of me. The lt. colonel once commented on it, and I told her that I would not be outdone by an Amestrian.

One afternoon, when we were taking a break, my master approached me. He was older now, his face sagging slightly. "Scar, your work for our people has been exceptional." He smiled gently at me, with the look of a proud father.

I bowed my head. "Thank you, master." Out of all the Ishvallans, he was the one who never doubted me, who made sure I was included.

He sat down in front of me and took my hand. "I still consider you my brother, after all that has happened." I was confused by his gesture. He'd said as much to me before, but it seemed like he meant something different this time. "It pains me to know that you feel cast out from Ishvalla."

Ah. That was his purpose in talking to me today. I withdrew my hand. "Master, I have done terrible things for which I cannot atone."

"So has the general, but he sticks to his beliefs." I looked up, surprised that my master mentioned him.

"You know?" I asked.

"I have my suspicions. I also think that you and he are much alike, and that you are trying to punish yourself with the name they gave you." I lowered my eyes, feeling nothing but shame.

"It is my name, now." I deserved this name. It was a constant reminder of what I had lost in the war, and that it was assigned to me by those whom I was trying to murder was all the more appropriate.

"You're wrong, my son. It is a name you have moved past. It is a name for who you used to be." I wanted that to be true, but my master was mistaken. I never completed my goal to kill all the State Alchemists, and therefore, Scar would be my name until I had done so. I had no intention of continuing down that path, but my hands were still half-stained with their blood. I stared down at my fists, which were resting on my knees as I sat cross-legged on the mat. I would never forget the lives I had taken.

"You should always remember the journey you have taken, but that does not mean your past should keep you from moving forward." For a moment, I wondered if my master could read minds, but I quickly dismissed the thought. It was just a coincidence, even if a well-timed one.

Raising my eyes to meet his, I answered, "I will think about what you have told me. Thank you for your wisdom, Master." I bowed again.

"Goodness, am I being dismissed?" He chuckled, and I heard the call to get back to work. My master rose to his feet. "Let us continue." He held his hand out to me to help me stand up.

I lay awake that night, thinking about the possibilities for my future. I hadn't really thought about it before. I had always focused on what was directly in front of me; I was so accustomed to the possibility of dying the following morning that I never let myself make any plans. But now... I had a place in this land. Many of my brethren would ask for my assistance and respected me, somewhat because the general respected me.

The general respected me. For all that I had tried to kill him and his subordinates on multiple occasions, he trusted me. I had thought it might be because of his guilt for what he did to my people, but it couldn't be that. He wasn't the sort of man to react to his guilt that way. What would he think about my rejoining my people?

I had heard of the exiles from our land being accepted back into Ishval through a ceremony, and I had watched several. Perhaps my master meant this sort of thing when he spoke to me. I remembered the faces of those going through it, how happy they looked. I remembered how the other Ishvallans had reached out their hands to touch them when it was over and the overwhelming sense of joy.

There was too much darkness in me now for such joy, now. I rolled over on the bedroll and tried to sleep.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

For some reason, that night I had a great deal of difficulty falling asleep. I couldn't think of anything in particular that was bothering me, just that my mind wouldn't shut off. I had this urge to go for a run, which I tried to ignore. It wouldn't do to go for a jog around Ishval in the middle of the night.

I rolled onto my other side, trying to focus on my breathing, but my heart rate wouldn't slow. Finally, I sat up. Maybe if I gave in and went for a short run, I'd be able to settle down. I pulled on my pants and boots, and pulled my hair up into a makeshift ponytail. I left the lights off, not wanting to disturb anyone.

I left the room and started down the hallway, when I heard the muffled shouts coming from the other end of the hall. That was Gen. Mustang's room. I unclipped my gun from my belt and ran down toward his door. Pausing just outside, I listened at the door. It was definitely his voice, but I couldn't tell what he was saying. I tried to handle, and found it turned easily in my hand. Pushing the door open, I readied my gun and entered the room. My eyes had adjusted to the light in the hallway, and I couldn't see anything in the darkness of his room. That's when something launched itself at me.

I grit my teeth and balanced my weight, bracing to take the weight of my attacker. I was blind in this light. I only realized when he tackled me that it was the general. Surprised, I lost my balance and we both fell to the floor. Dropping the gun, I landed hard on my butt, causing me to emit a small grunt of discomfort.

"Lieutenant?" His voice sounded groggy, like he'd just woken up.

"It's Lt. Col. Hawkeye, sir." I answered, propping myself up on my elbows. He must have been disoriented from sleep, to call me by my former rank.

He sat back on his knees and brought his hand to his hair. "Of course, sorry." His eyes seemed unfocused, and he started groping around in the dark. I hadn't seen him like this since ....

"Sir, are you all right?" I felt the all too familiar pang of fear in my gut as I watched him moving his hand around the floor, not turning his head.

"I'm fine. I just ..." He turned his head back to look at me, and his eyes slowly refocused as they rested on me. He sighed. "I was remembering the Promised Day."

The knot in my shoulders untangled as I sat up. "Do you need help, sir?"

He didn't answer me at first, looking around the room, as if searching for something. "Did I knock you over?"

"It's fine, sir."

"Answer my question, lt. colonel." He had that damn tone again, the one I had to answer to.

"Yes, sir." No point in mincing words. If he was looking for an answer, I'd give it to him.

His shoulders sagged. "Did I hurt you?" He lost all authority in his voice, and I looked at him in surprise. He was staring at me with vulnerability, truly worried that he'd caused me pain. I closed my eyes, sighing, and rose to my feet.

"No, general. I was more shocked than anything." I offered my hand to him, to help him stand. He looked at it and smiled before taking it. I pulled him up and loosened my grip on his hand, trying to go back into the hallway. But he didn't let go.

I waited for a moment, thinking that maybe he was just still disoriented. Eventually, he dropped my hand. "Forgive me, lt. colonel. I was having a nightmare."

"I figured as much, sir." I waited a moment to see if he had anything more to say. When he kept quiet, I moved to the door.

"Hawkeye," My name stopped me. Only on very rare occasions did we use each other's proper names at all, and then it was usually with our ranks.

"Yes, sir?" He may have dropped my title, but I was not about to go there. It was bad enough that I was in his room in the middle of the night.

"Do you ever have nightmares ... about what happened to you?" So that was what he had been dreaming about. The raised tissue on my neck itched a bit as I thought about it.

"Not particularly, sir. I don't have a very clear memory of what happened then. Would you like some tea?" If he was going to talk to me about this, it'd be better if we were in the break room with the lights on than his bedroom in the dark.

He nodded and followed me out of the room and into the hall. I let him get in front of me, as usual, and we proceeded to the break room. The other rooms along the way seemed quiet, thank goodness. We didn't need any witnesses for this conversation. I turned the hot water heater on and got out two cups from the cabinet. He sat down at the table.  _So much for my jog._ But this would probably be enough for me to go back to sleep when I got back to my room, whenever that would be.

I poured hot water into the cups and pulled out two tea bags from the decaffeinated box. I didn't want to go through the whole process of making the tea properly; it was too late at night for that. Setting a cup down in front of the general, I sat across from him. For a long time, neither of us said anything, sipping our tea.

I decided to start the conversation, or we'd never get back to bed. "You were dreaming about your forced human transmutation?" I glanced up at him without moving my head. He set down his cup and stared into it for a while.

"Yes and no. My dreams don't usually get that far." It seemed that I'd be the one directing the conversation. Around everyone else, he was so ... headstrong, but when it was just me, he would sink inside himself, letting everything catch with him. I didn't have that luxury. Someone had to keep him on track and pull him out when he got to deep.

"How do they start?" I prompted.

He looked up at me, the weariness in his eyes making it very hard to keep up the walls I had learned to construct around my mind when we are alone. "I'm fighting Envy, just throwing everything I've got at him. Envy turns into Hughes, but I keep going. Then he disappears down the hallway, and I can't find him. Then I run into you, and you've got a gun pointed at my head. I ask you to stay behind, but you follow me. When I turn around to reprimand you, Envy's there, and he's got you wrapped in ... I guess it's his arm. I can't do anything but watch because I might hurt you. He slams you into a wall." His eyes unfocused and he was no longer looking at me. "I pull out my gun and shoot his arm, and he drops you. I keep burning and burning him, and then everything is on fire. Somewhere in all of that, you're screaming at me to stop. When, the flames die down, I'm being held down and I can't figure out who it is, and you're kneeling in front of me. That doctor laughs and you fall over. You're bleeding on the ground and he laughs. That's usually when I wake up."

"Is that what you were dreaming when I woke you up?" I asked.

"You mean when I attacked you?" I could hear the edge of anger, just enough to taint his smooth voice. I didn't say anything. He didn't see reason when he got so melodramatic. "Yes, I was at that part of the dream. I must have mistaken you for the doctor in my sleep."

"I guess it's a good thing you keep your gloves in a different room, then." I sipped my tea calmly, watching as his eyes widened. He clenched his fist and it shook as it rested on the table. I admit, I did make that comment to get a rise out of him, but I immediately felt guilty.

"Would you like to hear what really happened before you found me fighting Envy?" I asked. It might get a laugh out of him, and he sorely needed that. I heard him take a quick breath, and I smiled. I set my cup down. "I had followed you, after you told me not to. I saw that look on your face, and I didn't want you to get carried away. I heard someone coming, so I hid around the corner. When that person reached me, I readied my gun at them. It was you, sir. I kept my gun there, knowing Envy could imitate anyone, until you lowered your fingers. You asked to stay close to you, and I knew it wasn't you. I had directly disobeyed your orders, and you didn't seem to care. We had walked about thirty feet when I aimed the gun at your head. You stopped and asked what I was doing. I smiled and answered that you always called me 'Riza' when we were alone." I was right, the look on the general's face was worth it. His mouth was hanging open slightly and his eyebrows were raised. Continuing, I said, "Envy changed back into his normal appearance, and said something like, 'So you two are that close?' When he turned around to face me, I just said 'I lied' and emptied my clip into him."

Gen. Mustang was grinning. "That's almost cruel, lt. colonel." I was glad to see he'd come out of the darkness in his mind.

I picked up my cup and took a sip. "Obviously, the homunculi misjudged our relationship, and I was just taking advantage of the enemy's weakness." The general chuckled and took a sip.

He stood up, picking up the empty cup in his other hand. "Well then,  _Riza_ , I think we'd better head back to bed." For all that he was using my name jokingly, it still shocked me a bit. He hadn't called me Riza since we met in Ishval during the war. I wasn't going to let him get away with that.

"All right,  _Roy._ " I saw his back stiffen, and I cursed myself. I had taken it too far, letting sleep deprivation get the better of me. In the entire time we'd known each other, I had only called him Roy twice before, whereas he'd usually called me Riza before I joined the military. He didn't say anything in response and continued washing the cups in the sink. "Good night, sir," I said quietly, exiting the room. The further I got from the break room, the faster I walked. I never broke into a run, but it was pretty close. I shut my door behind me and slumped against the wall. Black Hayate, who'd been sleeping in my room this whole time, walked up to me and put his head on my knee. I picked him up and set him on my lap, grateful for his weight against my suddenly unsettled stomach. I heard footsteps walk toward my door, and I could tell by the shadows from under the door that someone was standing outside. It was probably him, but childishly, I didn't want to face him. I'd said good night. Our conversation had ended, if abruptly, and I'd left. After a moment, the shadows moved away and I heard his footsteps moving down the hallway. I dropped my head into my hands and sighed. I wasn't going to be getting any sleep that night.


	3. Tinder

**October 1918**

**Scar**

The construction project I had been involved in had finished, and I was planning on sleeping in a little bit before going in for a new assignment. When I woke up, I could hear the sound of movement outside. I put on my overclothes and stepped outside the house. People were heading toward the central square, where major announcements were made. I joined the crowd.

"What is this?" I asked the older woman walking next to me. I had seen her face many times before. Her name was Kammani and she was close to my master.

"Gen. Mustang has an announcement to make. There are rumors that the Fuhrer is ill." I looked down at her sharply, shocked. In the square, many people were waiting and I could see Mustang on the temporary platform they brought out for special occasions, with his men behind him. His face did appear more grave than usual. I waited with the crowd, uneasy about what this could be. He usually told me about major changes in advance, so whatever it was, it was sudden. Hawkeye was scanning the crowd, no doubt ensuring the general's safety. Her eyes found me and she nodded slightly. 

After a few minutes, Mustang stepped up to the podium. His eyes seemed distant, fairly unusual for a man who took great pains to connect with his audience. Those around me shifted uneasily, noticing the change as well.

"Good morning, everyone," he started, his eyes looking out over the crowd. "Unlike my previous morning addresses, this ... is not good news." I frowned, noticing that his eyes had dark circles under them, like he hadn't slept well the past few days. "Two days ago, Fuhrer Grumman fell ill, and is currently in the hospital. There is no official statement as to the cause of his hospitalization yet, but we will let you know as soon as we know." He hesitated to say the next part, and I narrowed my eyes. I could tell what was coming. "Because of the tenuous situation in Central Command, the Fuhrer has asked me to return for a few days. In my absence, Capt. Heymans Breda will be the top authority here." A good choice, in my opinion. He was the best at logistics and at wrangling in the rest of Mustang's team, except, of course, for Hawkeye, who would undoubtedly be accompanying Mustang to Central. "I do not expect this to be a long stay, and the Fuhrer is already recovering from his illness." You didn't have to be trained as a monk to hear the falsehood in that statement. The Fuhrer was very ill, and chances of his recovery were slim. "We appreciate your understanding during this difficult time." With that, Mustang stepped down from the podium and left the stage.

Standing in the crowd, I could hear the murmurs begin: speculation about the fuhrer's illness, what might happen once Mustang left, possible candidates for the next fuhrer, etc. I couldn't help but wonder what this might mean for Mustang. If Fuhrer Grumman stepped down, it was likely that he'd appoint Mustang. And then, he'd be that much closer to reaching his goals. I watched him and his team as they walked inside the base before returning to my house. Between this and the conversation I'd had a few days ago, life was happening to us whether we were ready or not.

The general and a few of his men left quietly, leaving Capt. Breda in charge. Of his closest subordinates, only Lt. Col. Hawkeye went with him, as his personal assistant. In the days leading up to the departure, he didn't come to my house to talk like he had before. I imagine the preparations were exhaustive, not to mention the emotional strain from the close relationship he had with Grumman.

Fuhrer Grumman. He was a very difficult man to understand, but for the most part, he seemed to care about his citizens more than any previous leader Amestris has had, and seemed to share many of Mustang's ideologies. If he stepped down, there were two possibilities for the next fuhrer: Lieutenant General Armstrong and General Mustang. Either way this played out wouldn't have a great deal of impact on my life, however, I was surprised to realize that I did care about who became the next fuhrer. Both of them would continue the reconstruction of Ishval and the restoration of our culture. However, if Armstrong was appointed, Mustang would continue to work in Ishval. Armstrong would most likely uphold the military state, but I had no particular quarrel with that. I didn't know what that would mean for the progress Grumman had made with Parliament.

Mustang, on the other hand, would destroy the military state and create a democracy. This was not my main stake in this, though. My biggest concern if Mustang became the Fuhrer was who would work in Ishval after he left. Ishval meant more to Mustang than most of the military officers, as far as I understood. Of the others who did care, he has more leadership experience. The people here have grown to respect him. His team would most likely follow him back to Central, and they are just as integral to running things as he is. Leaving them behind while he visited Grumman is proof that he understood that.

For all that I don't usually seek the company of others, I wished to hear Mustang's thoughts. We'd talked about ideals, the future of Amestris and Ishval, and many other things, but we'd never spoken of it from a practical perspective. I was sitting in my home, eyes closed, when my master entered.

"Good evening, Scar," he said, smiling from the doorway.

I gestured for him to enter. "Good evening." He sat across from me, still smiling.

"That was a very interesting announcement this morning." So he wanted to talk about it. I didn't understand why he sought me out, instead of one of the Council members.

"Yes."

"The fuhrer has seen much in his time. The country will miss him when he steps down." I said nothing. His words were true, but I didn't know where he was going with this. "Change tends to come all at once, doesn't it?"

"I don't understand."

"It seems that when one element of life changes, others react, even those that seem unrelated."

"Is this about what you talked to me about a few days ago?" In all of the commotion about Grumman, I had not forgotten that he suggested I rejoin my brothers.

My master's smile relaxed. "Yes, have you given it any thought?"

_Why now?_ "I am honored that you think I am ready to come back into Ishvalla's arms, but I do not think it would be right."

"Because of the people you killed?"

In a way, I suppose it was about them, but I had come to terms with their deaths. "I did not finish what I set out to do with the name Scar. Until I have done that, I cannot cast that name aside."

My master chuckled, which didn't seem appropriate for our conversation. "I did not realize you meant to finish that particular task." At that point, a young man lifted the curtain in the doorway.

"Scar, we need your help in the northern sector." Rick stood in the doorway, his smile firmly in place, as always. My master and I stood up as Rick waited for me. Whatever it was, it didn't seem like Rick was going to let it wait.

"I hope you think about what I have said." My master patted Rick on the shoulder as he left. I certainly would.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

Thinking back over the past few days, it seemed as if our lives were picking up speed. We were rushing toward something, and I was afraid of where we'd end up. In the train car, both of us were silent. Part of me wished that we'd brought one of the others with us, so we wouldn't be so lost. Havoc had really wanted to come, but the general would have none of it. Havoc was needed in Ishval. I was surprised when he refused the general's request for him to take his place as commanding officer for the time we would be gone. He suggested Breda instead, pointing out Breda's work ethic and determination.

It seems a little strange, but after the Promised Day, Ishval is where we learned to become ourselves again. We had to get back to work and remember what it was like before the plots and betrayals. Recovering in Central was more like a dream than anything else. There were ceremonies and parties and dinners and just being happy we made it out alive. We were still in that strange, uplifted mood when we left for Ishval. Going back to Central again, for such a reason as this, would only enforce its surreality.

Fuhrer Grumman's illness upset me more than I thought it would. When I'd learned that we were related, I hadn't thought anything of it. He'd cut off my mother, and that meant he wasn't family. I didn't hold any grudge against for it. But when I heard that he was ill, I felt unexpectedly concerned for the aging fuhrer. It must have shown, because Mustang gave me a look that was a mixture of surprise, concern, and understanding. We'd learned of it just after we arrived in his office for the day. Fuery came in, out of breath, explaining to us that Grumman was in the hospital. Nothing was certain at that time, but it appeared to have been a heart attack. Mustang stood up instantly, shocking both the lieutenant and me. He'd demanded details, but Fuery didn't have any. The general showed signs of that he was going to start a full interrogation of Fuery, so I quickly thanked and dismissed him. He seemed relieved as he ducked out of the room.

I did the best I could to calm Mustang down, but he wasn't able to focus for the rest of the day. Sometimes, I wished he wouldn't get so attached to the people around him. But then, he wouldn't be the general I had come to respect. I snapped out of my memory back into the train car as Mustang's elbow slipped off the window ledge and he jumped.

"Are you all right, sir?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. I just dozed off. I haven't slept much the past few days." His embarrassed grin faded into a faint smile as he stared out the window. I knew he wanted to say something else, so I waited. "Lt. colonel ..." he stopped, his smile fading completely.

"Sir?" He didn't respond. There were so many thoughts swirling around his head, it was almost as if I could hear every single one of them. I suppose we had been together long enough.

"What do you suppose will happen next?" We'd been listening to soldiers talking about the possible outcomes for this situation, but we'd always ignored them. He'd always brushed it off.

I sat in silence for a while, staring at my hands. I had already formulated a decent idea of what would happen once we arrived in Central, but I knew Mustang wouldn't like it. "Fuhrer Grumman will want to discuss succession."

The general clenched his fists and frowned. "And how do you think that'll go?"

It wasn't like him to put all these questions to me. He was more the spontaneous-speech-man than anything. "There are two options for succession: Lt. Gen. Armstrong and you."

His frown deepened and there was irritation in his voice when he spoke. "I know that. I'm not asking for facts. I want to know how you think it'll go."

His tone annoyed me. "There's no point in worrying about that, sir. What will happen will happen."

His head snapped around to glare at me. "Dammit, Hawkeye!" His tone and body language may have been angry, but his eyes were filled with fear. All of my irritation toward him dissipated, leaving nothing in its wake but concern. His face crumpled as he bowed his head. I wanted to take his hand to reassure him that everything would be all right, but that wouldn't be appropriate, so I just lowered my eyes. He really was too soft, sometimes.


	4. Smoke

**October 1918**

**Scar**

“And I’m telling you, we don’t have the resources for that yet!” Captain Breda was arguing with Osman, the Ishvallan in charge of the residential sector furthest south. He’d never been a patient man, and he was among those still convinced that Amestris was only rebuilding Ishval to keep them out of their cities. General Mustang had difficulty with him, but usually managed to calm him down after a few minutes.

Breda wasn’t doing as well. He and Osman were really going at it, and other people in the area had stopped to watch. I had been picking up some supplies for the work on the temple when I heard them. Mustang had been gone one day, and already, we’d hit a snag.

I was somewhat concerned that their little argument could escalate, but I knew that Osman was smarter than that. Hopefully. Some of the other Amestrian soldiers also looked worried, looking around to see what everyone else was doing. Most of them hadn’t been in combat before, but they had been raised on stories of Ishvallan terrorists. While these stories have been disproved over and over again, it’s hard to let go of your childhood beliefs. I was grateful to Breda. He hadn’t raised his voice to Osman once, despite his tone becoming more and more annoyed.

I took my time gathering the tools we needed for the temple, keeping my ears trained on them. Finally, Osman left and the soldiers relaxed. Looking over at Breda, he seemed very tired. Of all of Mustang’s men, he was the most stubborn, and sometimes the most thick-headed, but he was also the most honest. Some of us had trouble with him, but we could trust him. I picked up the tools and left, satisfied that the conflict had passed.

Back at the temple, the monks were working on rebuilding the roof. We’d completed the walls of the building and cleared the rubble, and finishing the roof would be the second major milestone for the temple plans. I placed the tools down next to the rest of the supplies and scaled the scaffolding to tell the others I had returned. The monk in charge of the temple smiled and nodded at me. Cemal was covered in dust, having manuevered himself directly below the area he was working on. I sighed inwardly. His work may be reliable, but he was not the most experienced of the workers.

I set back to work on my section of the roof, and continued for a few hours. The other monks called back and forth to each other, and sometimes, they’d even call to me. They were either ten years older or five years younger than me, for the most part - those too old or too young to have fought in the war. Those who were my age during the war were mostly dead. They’d taken up arms against the Amestrians and protected their families. The only reason I survived was my brother’s sacrifice.

I focused harder on the work in front of me to drown out those thoughts. This was a time for looking to the future, not dwelling on the past. As the monks continued their banter, my mind wandered to what my master had said. Perhaps I could rejoin them. Maybe not as a monk, but as an Ishvallan. They didn’t seem to mind the tattoos on my arms, and very few of them avoided me. After Miles left last year to return to Briggs, I became the one many Ishvallans approached with their problems. But then I remembered that I had murdered those state alchemists, and I had performed alchemy. I had betrayed Ishvalla and I could not come back.

****

* * *

**Hawkeye**

We'd arrived late in the evening, too late for the hospital's visiting hours. Besides, after the general's emotional as well as physical train ride, he needed rest. We stayed in the dorms in Central Command, which hadn't changed much since the last time we'd been there. We were assigned neighboring rooms, and the other soldiers who accompanied us were on the floor above us. After a brief meeting in the general's common room, we all left for our own beds. I was the last to leave the room and I stopped before I reached the door. I closed it quickly and turned around to face a surprised general.

"Are you all right, sir?" I asked. He hadn't shown any particular emotion other than irritated since we'd stepped off the train. I knew he hadn't slept properly since we heard about Grumman's illness.

He sighed. "Lt. colonel, you should go to bed. We have a long day tomorrow."

I would not be moved. "I am aware of that, sir. However, I am not leaving until I have been assured of your well being." He was obviously emotionally wasted. When he got like this, he usually drank.  Given that we had a long day the next day, and that he knew I'd be right next door, he'd most likely drink alone in his room. That almost always ended badly for him.

He frowned at me, his shoulders drooping with fatigue. "I'm fine."

Bullshit. "I don't believe you, sir."

His frown turned into an all-out glare, but it didn't faze me. He knew looking at me like that was useless. "You are the most frustrating person I've ever met," he growled, slumping down into one of the sofas.

"Thank you, sir." I got a smile out of that.

"I won't drink, Hawkeye. I promise," he said, without looking at me. Even so, I believed him. He used my name, after all.

"Good. Will you sleep?" He'd conceded some ground to me, and I was going for the whole win.

His eyes met mine and he bared his emotions. The sudden fear, grief, frustration, and exhaustion threw my head for a spin, but I didn't budge. "I doubt it. I have a lot to think about." His eyes unfocused as he looked back down, lost in his thoughts.

I couldn't do anything about that. For the second time that day, I wanted to give him physical comfort, and for the second time, I didn't. It was amazing. We'd been back in Central for an hour, and we were already going through all of this again. The work we had to do in Ishval really took our minds off of it, but back in this familiar place, all of what happened in these halls came back to haunt us. My stance softened. He was no doubt feeling very similarly, and no one could fault him for being overwhelmed.

"Well then, good night, sir." He looked up when I spoke and gave me a soft smile. The look on his face made me glad I cut him a bit of slack. I heard him take a breath as if to say something when I turned to the door. That certainly brought back memories. I left the room with a smile on my face when he didn't say anything.

In the morning, I could tell he barely slept at all. He had that permanent, determined frown on his face, and his eyes were bright with intention, but the rings under his eyes suggested that his thoughts the night before hadn’t allowed him to rest. I was grateful to the other soldiers for ignoring this over breakfast. They seemed happy to be in Central. Most of them were new to the army, having joined after the Promised Day and immediately dispatched to Ishval, and hadn’t spent much time in the capitol city.

At 9, the general and I headed to the hospital. The other soldiers stayed behind; they would only clog up the hallways in the hospital, and goodness knows there would be enough traffic as it was. In the car, neither of us said anything, focused on the events later that day. Central Command would convene tomorrow, giving time for everyone to arrive. Brigadier General Douglas was already in Central, and Lt. General Armstrong would be arriving today with Colonel Miles. After visiting with the Fuhrer this morning, we’d meet with Major Armstrong to set up the security for the meeting tomorrow. Knowing the Lt. General, she’d likely want to meet with Gen. Mustang this evening.

For all that we’d been preparing for this since the war, it was surprisingly stressful. All of the possible hiccups to our plan kept running through my head, and I had to remind myself that there was nothing I could do about them. We’d gotten this far, mostly through luck, and now, we’d have to face what happened as it happened.

The car stopped in front of the main entrance, where Major Armstrong was waiting for us. As we got out, people stopped to look at us and whisper. After all, the general hadn’t been in Central in a while, and it was widely known that he was one of the candidates for Fuhrer. I glanced around the area, not terribly fond of the attention we were attracting. The general ignored the crowd and approached Armstrong.

“Long time, no see, Major.” The major’s eyes were red, as if he had been crying. He was known for his emotional outbursts, so spending time in a hospital no doubt fed his need to express himself.

Armstrong clicked his heels together and saluted. “Indeed, General. It is lovely to see you again, although the circumstances are regrettable.”

“At ease.” Armstrong dropped his salute. More people had gathered around, hoping to get a look at the man who’d saved the country a few years ago.

“Perhaps we could take this inside, Major.” I said quietly. Armstrong nodded and led us into the building. Inside, many soldiers were walking around, some for security, others trying to get any news that they could about Grumman’s conditions. As they noticed us walking through the halls, they’d snap to attention, a gesture that I’m sure the general appreciated. He needed every bit of strength he could manage today. We passed through the doors to the VIP wing, and arrived at the Fuhrer’s room.

Seeing authority figures in hospital beds is never easy. In all the time I spent at Eastern Command, he never looked particularly youthful, but this was something else entirely. His skin was pale, his arms mostly bare in the hospital gown. His smile seemed more fake and his eyes seemed tired. His hair was brushed, but slightly mussed from lying on a pillow all day.

Mustang’s actions were stiff as he greeted his commanding officer. Standing at attention near the wall, I could observe both Grumman and Mustang’s with my hawk’s eyes. Nothing escaped me, not even when Grumman pinched his leg underneath the blankets. I can’t imagine it was comfortable to lay in bed like that for several days.

As for his condition, Grumman explained that the heart attack happened at work, which was convenient, considering the proximity of his office to the hospital. He’d been treated almost immediately, so there was little danger of long-lasting impairments. He seemed annoyed with one of his doctors, who was convinced he needed to stay in the hospital for two weeks. I pitied anyone who had to deal with him as a patient.

After all the basics had been covered, Grumman leaned over to Mustang. “How are you feeling about the meeting tomorrow?” He had that smile on his face, the one that made you think he was so much more than how he presented himself. That smile scared the hell out of me.

The general didn’t seem as fazed. “As someone tried to tell me yesterday, what will happen will happen.”

“Oh-ho.” Grumman snickered, leaning back. “That’s very wise of you, Mustang. I assume it was you who said this, lt. colonel?” He maneuvered his head so that he looked directly at me.

I brought my hand up in salute. “Yes, sir.”

He chuckled again. “No need to be so formal.” Looking back at Mustang, he said, “Would you mind giving me a minute with your subordinate?”

I was shocked, as was the general. I’d never spoken to Grumman without someone else there, and never in any significant situation. I begged Mustang to stay in my head, hoping he could tell I didn’t want to be alone with the Fuhrer. Mustang turned to look at me, trying to read my eyes. He smiled and turned back to Grumman. “Of course.” He and Armstrong left me in there, alone with the most powerful man in Amestris.

Grumman smiled gently at me, but all the gentle smiles in the world would not make me feel kinship for this man. “Come sit.” He gestured to the chair the general had just vacated.

Moving robotically, I sat down rigidly in the chair next to his bed. “What is it that you want to discuss with me, sir?”

“You can stop with the ‘sir’ business. I’m not talking to you as the Fuhrer to a soldier.” I frowned. If he was hoping to establish some sort of family connection with me, I wasn’t interested. Apparently, he picked up on this. “You know, you have your father’s glare. I used to get that look all the time when they were first together.”

“Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?” My tone was harsher than I wanted it to be, but it got my point across fairly clearly.

“No, no.” He waved his hand, as if he could dispel the tension in the air with that. “I wanted to talk to you about Mustang.”

Of course. Central Command could talk all day about who should be the next Fuhrer, but when it came down to it, the Fuhrer was the one who had to decide. “What is it you would like to know, sir?”

“Again with the ‘sir’! Really, Riza. May I call you Riza? I called your father Hawkeye, and it doesn’t seem ... right.” I had heard him speak like this to others, but he usually never said more than two words to me. He’d never addressed me by name or rank previously. I didn’t particularly want him to call me by my first name, but I didn’t want him to refer to me like he did my father, either.

“Riza’s fine.” I hated giving him ground, but he had cornered me. This was why I didn’t like him; he didn’t give you an out.

“Good, good. Now, then! About Mustang, what kind of man is he? In Ishval, I mean.” Grumman’s eyes had a mischievous light in them, as if he had ulterior motives for his questions.

But what a question. It made something inside of me twist uncomfortably, although I couldn’t figure out why. “He’s fair, to both the soldiers and the Ishvallans. Everyone trusts him, and he takes time to get to know the people around him.”

Grumman nodded. “Sounds like him. What else?”

What else? What more did he want from me? “Well, he makes himself accessible to everyone, not just the higher ranking soldiers or civilian leaders.” I paused, waiting to see if he wanted me to continue. He had that manipulative smirk again, and I was starting to get irritated. “What else do you want to know, sir?”

Grumman frowned at my ‘sir.’ It was habit, and I wasn’t going to let him treat me any way he wanted. “You’re telling me what he does. I want to know who he is.”

That thing inside me twisted again. “He’s kind, brave, strong, focused, charismatic, ...” My voice trailed off as I tried to think of what else to say. I was lost in thought for about a minute.

Grumman cleared his throat, bringing me back down to earth. He looked me directly in the eyes, trapping me there, and asked, “Who is he to you?”

I froze for a moment. I knew there had been rumors about Mustang and me, but they had only ever been rumors, sparked because I was a woman in the military. “Are you suggesting something, sir?”

“Just testing you.” He relaxed his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. “I’m planning on choosing him as my successor.”

That was it. He just said it. And I had thought this conversation couldn’t throw me off balance any more than it already had. My mouth dropped open. Grumman opened one eye to look at me and smiled.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell Mustang about this conversation. Well, at least not that last bit. You’re dismissed, lt. colonel.”

* * *

**Scar**

I was heading back to my house when I heard shouting coming from the direction of the barracks. I hoped it was no more than a few Amestris soldiers quarrelling over latrine duty. Concerned that it was something more, I increased my pace and changed directions. As I got closer, I could hear Osman’s voice again.

“You’re hoarding the supplies, aren’t you? Keeping all of the good stuff for yourselves so that you can keep us living in these awful conditions!” I gritted my teeth. This was not good.

“Of course not! Look, I’ve shown you the records of all the stuff we got from Central. It’s right there in front of you!” That was Breda’s voice. Perfect.

“Like you Amestrians have never lied to us before!” I heard some of the other soldiers gasp.

I rounded the last corner to see Osman pointing a gun at Breda, whose hands were up. Osman’s eyes were large with anger. He glanced over at me as I approached.

“Here comes Scar, come to stop me from killing your sorry asses.” I knew Osman didn’t like me very much, viewing me as a traitor for working with the Amestrians. He’d called me a spy on multiple occasions.

I said nothing, stopping about ten feet from either of them. The other soldiers were getting more and more agitated, some reaching for their guns. This could escalate very quickly.

“Do you see that?” Osman was addressing me. “See how they’re itching for a reason to shoot me?”

Breda answered, “Well, you are pointing a gun at me.”

Osman tensed his arm and yelled, “Shut it!” Breda raised his eyebrows and stopped talking. Osman needed someone to talk him down, and I wasn’t the best person for the job. I couldn’t see any other Ishvallans around, let alone anyone he’d listen to, so I sighed.

“Osman, do you know what will happen if you pull the trigger?” Not taking his eyes off Breda, he set his mouth and lowered his eyebrows. “If you shoot Breda, the other soldiers here will panic, and they will shoot you. Breda’s death will convince the rest of Amestris that we’re volatile, and your death will convince the other Ishvallans that Amestrians can’t be trusted. You’ll start another war, and our people will not survive.” Breda’s eyes flicked over to me, and he lowered his arms. Osman didn’t move, but his eyes seemed to cloud over. He knew I was right, and he knew he couldn’t shoot.

“You’re the same as them, you know that?” His arms suddenly relaxed and he lowed the gun. “You’ll never be accepted here.” He walked off, tucking the gun into the fabric tied around his waist.

Breda came over to me and offered his hand. “Thanks for that.” I shook his hand briefly, then turned to leave.

“He’s wrong, though.” I turned my head slightly in the direction of Breda’s voice. “The other Ishvallans respect you a lot.” Saying nothing, I went to my house for the night. Breda didn’t know what he was talking about; Osman was right.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

Standing outside the door to the hospital conference room, I watched as the highest ranking military officials entered. There weren’t many left, and they even included a colonel. Lt. General Armstrong and Colonel Miles were the first to arrive, as intimidating as ever. She stopped for a moment to greet her brother, who was standing with me. To me, she nodded, saying “I see Mustang brought his dog along.” I saluted her, and she let out a short laugh. She and Miles filed in, the colonel giving me a slight nod. We’d worked closely together in Ishval, and it was nice to see him again.

Next was Brigadier General Henry Douglas, the only one invited to the meeting today who wasn’t somehow involved in the coup. During that time, he had no knowledge of the homunculi or their plans. He did fight against us on the Promised Day, but we were trying to overthrow the Fuhrer. He nodded at both of us as he entered.

General Mustang came next and stopped to chat with us. “Good morning, Major.”

Armstrong and I both saluted him. “Good morning, Gen. Mustang.” Armstrong answered. The general had his confident smile on, but I knew he hadn’t slept well the night before, and he was very anxious about this meeting. Gen. Armstrong’s visit the night before hadn’t helped matters.

“Lt. colonel, I’m leaving my back to you.” Letting some of his true emotions through, he gave me a goofy, weak smile.

Smiling back at him, “Of course, sir.” He took a deep breath and entered. I was glad that he’d finally let go of the worst of his anxiety. Perhaps my words on the train had finally gotten through, like he’d told the fuhrer yesterday.

Speaking of, Grumman rolled up in a wheelchair, pushed by a decently attractive nurse, who seemed flattered. I pursed my lips. I knew Grumman was the one who taught Mustang about flirting, but it was still a bit disconcerting. “Good morning, Armstrong, Riza.” Grumman smiled up at us, like he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

Armstrong and I saluted him, chorusing, “Sir.” Grumman chuckled slightly, and waved off the nurse.

“Thank you, Miriam, I’ve got it from here.” He stood up, stiffly, and Miriam moved to assist him. He waved her off, and got all the way up by himself. I almost felt bad for her, watching her bite her lip in concern. Armstrong held open the door for the fuhrer, who walked inside as if nothing had happened.

Miriam waited outside with us, standing awkwardly next to me, behind the wheel chair. At times, we could hear some voices, but we could never tell what was being said. I didn’t have any interest in listening in. The general would tell me when they finished. I thought about the qualifications of the two Fuhrer candidates. Armstrong was a very decisive leader, and had proven her merit over and over again. She was harsh, but that was necessary for her post in Briggs. She was certainly more militaristic than Mustang, but instilled the same loyalty in her subordinates as Mustang did in his. The main difference between them was their intentions for Amestris. I honestly didn’t know much about what Armstrong wanted for the country. Given her temperament, she probably favored the stratocracy, but I doubt she would reverse the work that Grumman had been doing.

My thoughts turned to Ishval. Ishval was extremely important to Mustang, who’d given all of himself to its reconstruction. He’d set up a trade route to Xing that passed through the main part of Ishval, to boost Ishval’s economy. He took his promise to Dr. Marcoh very seriously, and remembers the souls of the Ishvallans who gave him back his eyesight, and gave Havoc back his legs. Ishval was not ready for the military to withdraw. It was more than that, though. Mustang was loved and respected in Ishval. It had taken a while, but now, he was one of the most respected people in Ishval, including the Ishvallan leaders. I didn’t think he wanted to leave them in the hands of someone else.

Two hours passed, and the officers exited the room. Miriam carted Grumman off in the wheelchair, leaving the general and I standing in the hallway. I said nothing as we walked down the hallway, taking up my position two steps behind him. His face revealed nothing, but I did notice his hair was slightly ruffled around the base of his hairline. I had to remind myself not to reach up and fix it.

The car was waiting for us out front. We slipped in, heading back to the dorms. That’s when Mustang’s shoulders slumped and he let out a big sigh.

“Sir?”

He looked up at me, a tired smile on his face. “Nothing’s been officially decided."


	5. Bonfire

**November 1918**

**Scar**

Nothing really changed after Mustang came back from Central. He announced that the Fuhrer was recovering well and would resume his duties soon. He said nothing about the decision of Grumman’s successor, but when I asked, he responded that Grumman hadn’t made a decision. Typical of the old man.

Osman’s words affected me more than I had imagined. I had no previous assumption that the other Ishvallans thought well of me, but I did think that I was at least a part of the community. Some of the Amestrians were well-liked by the Ishvallans, and I had hoped I was respected as much as they were. How times had changed, that I would compare myself to military dogs.

As we continued to work on the temple, I talked to the monks less and less. I didn’t want them to view me as trying to push my way back into their ranks. During lunch break one day, Cemal approached me.

“Something on your mind?” He sat down next to me on the temple floor, taking a bite out of his sandwich.

Cemal and I had never been particularly close, even before the war. We had worked in the same temple, but he’d been closer to my brother. “Just thinking about the reconstruction.” I answered, bowing my head to Ishvalla before picking up my wrap.

Cemal nodded. “That is a pretty big issue around here.” I couldn’t tell if he was being serious, with his light tone. “I heard about what Osman said to you last week.”

Of course he did. Cemal and Breda were pretty good friends, and they were widely known to be gossips. I didn’t respond, continuing to eat my wrap.

“He’s not right, you know. I can’t speak for everyone, but the monks around here really respect you. They enjoy your company when we’re working.” He looked at me from his peripherals, trying to see my reaction. I didn’t give him one. “Have you thought about rejoining us?”

That certainly got my attention. Had he been talking to my master? Considering it was Cemal, probably. “Someone mentioned it to me.”

He smiled at me. “What do you think about it?”

I struggled to give him an answer. Some of the Ishvallans knew what I’d done, but most didn’t. Even those who knew didn’t know all the details. “I don’t think it would be appropriate for me, considering my past.”

Cemal guffawed. “This isn’t about the past, now, is it? It’s about the future, what you want to do, and who you want to be. You can’t let what happened in the past keep you from moving forward. I mean, look at the Amestrians. Some of them fought in the Ishvallan war, and here they are, rebuilding what they destroyed in the first place. And we respect them! If we can accept them into our community, we can certainly accept you, who’s integral to the reconstruction, back into our family.” Cemal’s impassioned speech shook me. He was right, of course. I thought about Mustang and his goals for the future. He may have been thinking about the past, but he was looking to the future, and how to improve it for others.

I didn’t answer Cemal, finishing up the last of my lunch. A few of the other monks joined us, chatting about nothing in particular until the lunch break ended. They didn’t seem to think of me as different from them. Perhaps it was time I rejoined my family.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

When we arrived back in Ishval, Breda explained his confrontation with Osman. The general had dealt with Osman many times before, but he’d never threatened violence. Breda told us about Scar’s intervention. We truly were indebted to him for all that he’s done for Ishval.

The general continued his nightly visits to Scar’s house after we returned. It was during one of these that Scar revealed his intention to rejoin the Ishvallans through a ceremony called _Skari_. The ceremony is about family ties, which has been altered to accept the Ishvallan outcasts back into their clan. Apparently, we don’t have the words to describe this accurately in Amestrian. Scar explained that he needed someone to sponsor him, which meant someone who could speak on his behalf during the ceremony. The look on Mustang’s face when Scar asked him to be his sponsor was unforgettable. I had come to the conclusion that Scar would ask him to be involved when he started explaining the ceremony, and it didn’t surprise me. Scar admired the general greatly. He’d admired him even when he wanted to kill him. But he had no idea it was coming, and he didn’t know how to react. Scar bowed his head to him as he explained what Mustang’s participation in the ceremony would entail.

As we sat in the house that night, I watched two great men realize the brotherhood that they shared. They really were two sides of the same coin. The atmosphere in the room grew heavy and reverent as they talked about the ceremony, and when we left, the general was in a daze. He said nothing as we walked back to headquarters and went straight to his room when we arrived. I checked on the dogs before I retired, slightly subdued myself.

The next evening, the general and I visited Scar’s master, Elyakim, as part of the ceremony, bringing food as an example of Scar’s desire to become family. I waited outside while Mustang explained to him Scar’s intentions. He had to be the one to ask for the ceremony rather than Scar, because if Scar asked, it would seem too forward and arrogant. After about half an hour, Scar’s master invited me in to share the meal, which indicated that the first part of the ceremony had been completed. He explained to me that the ceremony would take place over the next week, in stages. The general was required to spread the word of the third and final day of the _Skari_ , which was the ritual in which all Ishvallans are encouraged to participate. Scar’s master would begin preparations for the ceremony, and it would commence in two days. The final day would fall on the Ishvallan sabbath, which was already designated as a day of rest for the workers.

To be honest, I didn’t understand much of the ceremony. I was honored that Elyakim was explaining it to us, but many of the actions he described seemed redundant to me. The general took everything he said very seriously, listening to every word with the same dedicated expression as when he was learning alchemy.

The conversation continued for a long time, and I was getting tired. We’d have to leave soon. Scar’s master was explaining the meaning of the sashes the Ishvallans wore when he turned to me. “Lt. colonel, can you weave?”

I was taken aback. “No, I don’t know how.” Why did he ask me that?

“That’s a shame. It is tradition that a woman close to the one receiving the sash makes it for them. If Gen. Mustang is to be his _Mosehri_ , then it would be preferable for you, as a woman close to him, to make the sash. But that’s all right.” He smiled at me. “I can ask Kammani.” Kammani had lost her whole family during the war, and as such, she adopted all of the Ishvallans as her relatives. She’d probably made sashes like this for many other people.

A while later, we left Elyakim in the same silence as we had left Scar the night before. The general changed almost instantly from reverent to frazzled.

“This whole _Mosehri_ thing is a lot of work.” he said, lifting his hand to his hair. “I’ve already got my average load of paperwork to do, and now I have to make these invitation wand things and distribute them.”

“Breda, Havoc, and I can handle the paperwork, sir.” I answered calmly. I knew he wasn’t complaining about having to make the wands. He was stressed and needed an outlet. As usual, that outlet was ranting to me. “It’s not like you haven’t pushed your work onto us before.”

His shoulders slumped and he grimaced sarcastically at me. “Thanks for your words of comfort, lt. colonel.”

“Anytime, sir.” But he did seem less worried for the rest of the night. After explaining the situation to Breda, the captain dug up books on Ishvallan culture that we’d studied when we first arrived. The general went to his office, books in hand. It was going to be a long few days for him.

* * *

**Scar**

Mustang came to me two days after he agreed to be my _Mosehri_. He showed me an invitation wand he had made, asking if it looked right. He’d chosen the right materials, but the engraving was a bit sloppy. Considering it was in Ishvallan, and he’d probably never written in the language before, it wasn’t all that terrible. He seemed relieved when I nodded, and rushed off.

Later, I saw Mustang at the temple, passing out more of those wands to the other workers. Most of their faces lit up as he explained what they were for. None of them said anything to me about it, but Cemal clapped my shoulder and grinned at the end of the day. Walking home, many people smiled at me. It was certainly a pleasant feeling.

Kammani was waiting outside my house, and waved to me as I approached. “Good evening, Scar.” she called.

I bowed my head to her before answering. “Good evening.”

“I’d like to share a meal with you.” She picked up a basket that had been sitting behind her, pulling back the cloth on top to show various dishes. I held open the curtain so that she could enter my house.

She spread the food on the table, and I was amazed. She had made us a feast, for sure. There was sausage, _aveluk_ , yogurt, _spanakh_ , and _lavas_ bread. I hadn’t seen food like this in a while. It was usually only served in the same meal for communal feasts.

“I hope you enjoy it.” she said, smiling at me. I thanked her and then gave the appropriate thanks to Ishvalla. During the meal, she asked me many questions about the temple, which I struggled to answer. She was very knowledgeable about architecture whereas I, for the most part, did as I was directed. The meal ended, and I began cleaning the dishes. She moved to help me.

“Elyakim- _malim_ asked me to make your sash.” Her face did not change as she said this, but I looked to her in surprise. I had no surviving family, so there was no one that I could ask, but I barely knew Kammani. I’d seen her make sashes for others, particularly the younger ones whose parents had died, but I never thought she would make mine.

“I wanted to know more about you before I made the sash, so that I could make it yours.” We finished the dishes and sat on the mats.

“What would you like to know?” I asked.

Her eyes softened and she smiled sweetly. “Many things. Why did you cast off your name?”

I lowered my eyes. “There was so much hatred in my heart after the war. I cast off my name because I intended to break the laws of Ishvalla.”

She nodded. “Many of us felt anger over what happened to our land. Many still feel anger. How did you break Ishvalla’s laws?”

I was reluctant to talk about it. But it was important for her to understand these things if she was making my sash. “I intended to murder those responsible for the destruction of Ishval.”

“Did you succeed?”

The word ‘succeed’ threw me off. Thinking about it, I suppose I had, in a way. “Yes, but in a way I had not anticipated.” After all, I was the one who delivered the fatal blow to King Bradley, who’d issued the order.

“How did the outcome differ from what you anticipated?” Kammani’s face was unreadable. Her eyes still had that softness, despite my having confessed murder.

“My understanding of the war changed, and I became concerned with another problem. In solving that problem, I no longer desired to murder state alchemists.” I tried to keep this as vague as I could. Not many people knew what actually happened, and while I trusted Kammani, it was not important for this discussion.

“Why Mustang?” she asked. I’m sure it was on the minds of many Ishvallans.

“I respect him and what he’s doing. We are very similar, and I feel he understands me better than most of the Ishvallans.”

Kammani smiled. “And what do you intend to do once you rejoin us? Will you become a monk again?”

“No.” It was one thing to rejoin my family, but another thing entirely to gain status as a brother. “I have broken Ishvalla’s laws, and I cannot take up that sash. As for what I will do, I don’t know yet.”

Kammani’s smile deepened knowingly. “Devote some time to meditate on that. And don’t rule anything out.” She stood up. “I have learned all that I need to know, and now it is time for me to start making the sash.”

I stood up with her. “Thank you for the meal.”

“Thank you for our conversation.” I bowed to her as she left.

What did I want to do with my life? Before the war, I had been a monk. After the war, I was a murderer. And now, ... what was I? The reconstruction would likely take the rest of my lifetime, so I could devote myself to the physical side of that. But was that what I wanted my role to be? We had many skilled laborers who were more competent than me. For now, everyone worked, but what would happen when that started to slow down?

Mustang didn’t visit that night, probably busy preparing for the ceremony which would start the following night. I wished it would hurry up and be over so that we could all go back to our normal lives. I didn’t like all these questions swirling around in my head.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The first two days of the ceremony passed quietly. The Ishvallans seemed enthusiastic about Scar rejoining their number, which was heartening. With the general busy with the ceremony, the rest of us were pretty swamped with all of the paperwork he couldn’t complete. At night, I would follow him to the rituals, but I’d always wait outside. As an outsider, I wasn’t permitted to watch parts of it. But I couldn’t let the general go by himself, especially so soon after Osman’s outburst. Other Ishvallans would walk by and smile in my direction. They knew what was going on in the house behind me. Those who I had grown close to stopped to chat with me, telling me about their lives. I loved this part of my job.

At the end of the rituals, I would follow the exhausted general back to headquarters, where he’d head straight to bed. On the second night, I noticed that Chise was much less active than she had been, and Black Hayate would not leave her side. It looked like the puppies would be coming soon.

On the final night of the _Skari_ , there was a huge celebration. Almost every Ishvallan turned out for this, and a few of the Amestrians. This was the only part that outsiders could be a part of. Elyakim, Scar, Kammani, and the general stood in the middle of the crowd, in front of a large bonfire.

Elyakim stepped forward. “Tonight is a momentous occasion. Tonight, we accept into our number a new brother.” He gestured to Scar. “With open arms, Ishvalla welcomes all.”

The general stepped forward. “I bring news of one who has travelled far, and now feels the destination is near.” His voice was strong and clear.

Elyakim turned to the general. “Of whom do you speak?”

“Of he, who even now waits before the people.”

“What does he seek?” As they continued, I glanced around the crowd, seeing many familiar faces. Those who held invitation wands stood closest to the fire, with the rest of us behind them. The general had forbid any of the soldiers who wanted to attend from carrying weapons, which made me nervous. Mustang made the perfect target right now. But as I looked around, I couldn’t see anyone with malicious intent. Everyone was smiling, the younger ones looking on with excitement.

Letting myself relax, I thought about the implications of such a ceremony. Scar was moving forward, letting go of his past. The people here would surround him as family, and he’d find his place in the world. His future was opening up. I thought about my future, and what I intended to do with my life.

The man standing in front of the fire, in his dress uniform. I had devoted my life to him, and his goals. He was my future. I would follow him until the end. All these people around me saw the future as hope, as growing for the better. I suppose, in a way, I did, too. After all, weren’t we working for a better future for those who would follow us? However, unlike Scar, there was no place for me in this future. Scar’s sins were his own, and could be cleansed. Mine and Gen. Mustang’s, on the other hand, were not our own. The only way to cleanse those sins from the world would be to remove the sinners. We wanted a world in which people would never again do what we had done, and there would be no place in such a world for us. There was only one path for us to take, for a better future, and it would be one that would eradicate all possibility of a personal future for either one of us.

My heart was heavy as I watched the rest of the ceremony. Kammani was holding a long, burgundy cloth, and Scar was standing with Elyakim.

“As you start life afresh, it is only right that you be given a new name. Because of your dedication to rebuilding our homeland, you shall be known as Kaliq, one who creates.” As Elyakim spoke, Kammani wrapped the sash around Scar. When she was finished, the four of them began processing around the bonfire, with Kaliq leading. The general gave me a sad smile as they passed near me. It seemed that he had been thinking along the same lines. They returned to the center when they had walked all the way around.

“Come, my brethren, and greet our new brother in the name of Ishvalla.” Elyakim, Kammani, and the general backed away from Kaliq as the other Ishvallans came forward, reaching their arms to him. Kaliq had a soft smile on his face as he reached out his hand to touch those who reached their hands out to him. We soldiers stayed back, watching. Kaliq bowed his head, and I thought I saw tears before the crowd blocked him from my view.

The sight of the vast throng of people reaching out to Scar, now Kaliq, was potent, and I teared up. The general had found me, and he smiled. “It’d be nice to be forgiven like that, wouldn’t it?”

His smile warmed me more than the heat from the bonfire as I answered, “Yes, sir.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ceremony described is based on the Lakota Native American Hunka ceremony, which is the equivalent of adoption, with a little bit of Wiccan initiation thrown in. The food is traditional Armenian food, which I chose because the War of Extermination is extremely similar to the Armenian genocide.


	6. Spark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out, Scar will be referred to as Kaliq.
> 
> Warning: A dog goes into labor, and while I wasn't very specific, I described it well enough.

**December 1918**  


**Kaliq**

“Do you like dogs?” I was surprised when Lt. Colonel Hawkeye approached me after a day of work. We’d never had any interactions that didn’t also include Mustang. Her question came out of nowhere, and only added to my confusion.

“Yes.” I’d always had a soft spot for small animals. Before the war, I placed food out for the stray animals around the town. I never actually had a pet, though. Monks weren’t permitted them, and my brother had been allergic to most animals.

The soldier seemed out of her element. “One of the dogs at headquarters is about to give birth. We can’t keep all of the puppies around; we don’t have the space or the time for them.” It was obvious how much Hawkeye cared for the dogs, and how reluctant she was to let go of them, even if they weren’t born yet. I was surprised to see this side of her, instead of the grounded, matter-of-fact woman who followed Mustang.

I thought about it. I could probably handle a puppy, even if I were working on the temple almost all day. I had no intention to become a monk again, so I’d be able to keep the dog long-term. It might be nice, sharing my living space with another creature. “I’ll adopt one,” I said finally.

Hawkeye visibly relaxed. Of all the things that could be stressing her out, I was surprised how much this worried her. “Thank you.”

“Kammani might be able to take one, as well,” I added.

“Yes, I was going to visit her next.” Hawkeye answered. She seemed more like herself again, or as much as I knew of her self. “Again, thank you, Kaliq.” She held out her hand, and I took it.

As she walked off, I wondered what the lt. colonel intended to do once Mustang became fuhrer. I had learned enough about their relationship to know that she would follow him to Central, but what about after that, after the trials? The likelihood that Mustang would be acquitted was about 50/50. Would she follow him to the grave?  


* * *

**Hawkeye**  


“Hawkeye!” Havoc’s voice jolted me from my reading. His tone meant danger. I grabbed the gun from the side table next to my seat and ran toward the door. Havoc appeared in the open doorway. “Chise’s gone into labor!” He said, his eyes wide. He hadn’t been there at the first birth, as he’d still been in rehabilitation for his legs.

I breathed out slowly. “Relax, Havoc, she’ll be fine. She’s done this before with no problems.” My words didn’t seem to have any effect on him as he shakily reached for a cigarette. “Not in my room.” I pushed him out into the hallway and started walking to the break room, tucking the gun into the holster on my leg. I heard Havoc’s footsteps behind me. If he was like this now, I couldn’t imagine what he’d be like when his first child was born.

Black Hayate was going mad in his pen in the corner. We’d had to put him there when he kept bothering Chise, and now that she was whimpering and pacing the room, he wouldn’t quit barking.

“Capt. Havoc, take Hayate to your room and lock the door.” I ordered. I washed my hands at the sink and prepared a mat for Chise to lie down on. Her whining was putting me on edge, but I knew I’d just have to wait. I turned off the overhead light in favor of the small lamp in the corner and went to fetch my book. She’d continue pacing and whining for several more hours before anything else happened.  


I heard Havoc wrestling with a restless Hayate and grimaced. It was going to be a long night for the both of us, and unlike the dogs, we didn’t have the luxury of sleeping during the day tomorrow. The general stuck his head into the hallway.

“What’s going on?” he called down to me.

“Chise’s gone into labor, sir. Havoc’s attempting to restrain Black Hayate.” The scared look on his face didn’t surprise me. The first time Chise had gone into labor, he’d been a nervous wreck. It would have been endearing, if he hadn’t been in the way all the time.

“Oh. Umm, do you need any help?” He asked, stroking the back of his head.

I sighed. “No, thank you, sir. I can handle this.” I went into my room and grabbed the book, _Hero of Our Time_. It was a bit dense, so it wouldn’t be difficult to put it down if Chise needed something.  


Back in the break room, I turned on the coffee pot and sat next to the lamp. I’d need all the help I could get for the long night. Chise continued pacing for another hour before she finally laid down. Even then, she whimpered and broke out into a sweat. She’d occasionally get up and grab a pillow of the couch to bring back to the mat. During the whole four hours of this, I was only able to read about fifteen pages, especially considering two certain soldiers kept interrupting me to check on Chise. I chased them out each time, insisting that I didn’t need their help.

I had just gotten to Pechorin galloping after Vera when Chise yipped suddenly. Looking up, I saw yellow-ish liquid spreading from between her hind legs and she rolled over onto her side. Putting the book down, I knelt next to her. I knew there was nothing I could do but watch, but it really was something else to watch this. I heard footsteps behind me and the general crouched down on my right.

“This is it, right?” he asked, sounding nervously excited.

“Yes, sir. We should see puppies soon.” Chise started moving one of her front legs frantically, as if she were kicking something, and I placed my hand behind it so she wouldn’t injure herself. She pushed hard against my hand and I could see sweat glistening on her coat. After several minutes of this, the first puppy made an appearance. I pulled my hand away from Chise, allowing her to bend over and clean the little guy.  


I heard the general gasp at the sight and I smiled. The puppy, for all that he was covered in fluids with bulging eyes and looked more like a slimy pink rat than a dog, he was beautiful. Once Chise had cleaned off enough of the fluid for the little guy to breathe and bit off the umbilical cord, he started opening and closing his mouth, his paws twitching. I laughed quietly.

The general stood up to grab a towel while I rubbed Chise’s head. “Good girl, good job.” I whispered to her. Passing me the towel, Mustang sat down on the ground and reached out to touch the puppies head.  


He stopped and pulled his hand back. Turning to me, with a wide-eyed expression, he asked. “Is it okay if I touch him?” He was acting like a child.

I smiled and closed my eyes. “It’s fine. Just don’t rub too hard.” I opened the towel in my hands and watched as Mustang reached out with his finger and gently pet the top of the baby’s head. His face broke into a huge grin. I reached in to hold the puppy and placed him on the towel. Chise raised herself up on her front legs and followed the puppy with her head into where I placed him on my lap. I rubbed him gently with the towel to clear away the rest of the fluid and Mustang started laughing.

“What is it?”

“You keep using the baby voice to talk to him. It’s so unlike you.” We both kept our voices low so we didn’t disturb the dogs.  


“What?” I wasn’t aware I was making any sounds.The general just kept laughing softly. Eventually, I set the puppy down in front of Chise again, who had lain back down for the next round. We went through that process three more times over the next five hours. It was getting light out when the fourth puppy came.

After petting the most recent puppy, Mustang sighed. “I have to get ready for work.” He stood up. “Don’t worry about today, lt. colonel. You need to rest, after Chise’s done.” He patted me on the shoulder as I placed the only girl of the litter next to her brothers.  


I was exhausted, too exhausted to argue. “Thank you, sir.” Chise kept licking her newborns as more liquid came out of her vagina. We would most definitely have to wash those pillows, thoroughly.

I don’t remember the rest of that day very clearly. At some point, later that morning, Fuery came and relayed orders from the general to stop playing with the puppies and go to bed. Fuery’s face when he saw them, though, negated any harshness in the order. And I knew Mustang only made the order sound harsh to keep up appearances in front of the other soldiers. Not that anyone believed him, of course. I did leave, at some point, and Falman came to replace me. I somehow managed to make it back to my room and collapsed on my bed.  


* * *

**Kaliq**  


Weeks had passed since Hawkeye asked me about adopting a dog. The general told me about the birth, going on and on about how cute the puppies were. It did grate on my nerves after a while, but I did want to see them. After about a week of hearing about the puppies, I finally asked Hawkeye if I could see them.

She seemed surprised. “If you’d like.” Mustang, sitting next to her, jumped in.

“Of course! You should definitely come by to see them! They’re just starting to open their eyes!” As much as I felt affection for small animals, I felt no affection for the blubbering idiot sitting in front of me.

I blatantly ignored his comments. “Have you heard from the fuhrer lately?” He hadn’t spoken about him since before the puppies were born, but before that, they’d been communicating regularly. My question seemed to shock Mustang, who was no doubt lost in reverie over the newest members of the military.  


“Yes, we received a telegram from him two days ago.” The general I was more familiar with seemed to return. “His recovery has progressed well. Some people in Central are pushing for him to retire, but you know how he is.” Mustang’s mind went somewhere else for a few moments, leaving Hawkeye and I in uncomfortable silence.

Hawkeye spoke up. “Sir, we should get back to base.” The look in her eyes as she stood up with the general said that she’d picked up on something about Mustang’s mood that I hadn’t. But then, no one knew Mustang as well as she did.

After they left, I thought about Mustang’s devotion to the puppies. He would make a wonderful father, but I don’t imagine he had any desire for that, considering the direction of his life. Besides, he’d have to find a willing woman first, and the one closest to him didn’t seem like she wanted to leave the military to start a family.

My mind wandered back to that woman who’d brought us lunch at the temple yesterday. She wasn’t particularly pretty, but when she smiled at me, ... I couldn’t believe I was having those thoughts. It wasn’t fair for me to think about that. I didn’t deserve my name or my place in the community. How could I even think about anything like that?  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The book Hawkeye was reading is Hero of Our Time by Mikhail Lermontov.


	7. Ignition

**July 1919**

**Kaliq**

Toby barked incessantly as the general and his lieutenant colonel entered my house. It had been a long day: we’d started on the third market house in Kanda. Once we’d opened up the main trading center in Ishval, for the exchange route between Xing and Amestris, we’d been swamped with people from both countries who were eager to travel to the other country. Our economy had already felt the benefits of this trade agreement.

Mustang sat on the mats like he always did, Hawkeye right beside him. Toby came over to sniff her hand, tail wagging. He’d grown quite a bit since I adopted him eight months ago. It was when Hawkeye pushed him away that I knew something was different.

Mustang sighed, his eyes closed. “We heard from the fuhrer this afternoon.” he began. Obviously, it wasn’t good news. Whatever it was, it seemed to give Mustang some difficulty, and he didn’t say anything for a while. Looking at his subordinate, I could see that it was troubling her as well. She seemed more concerned with the news than with how the general was reacting to the news, which was a first.

“He’s retiring.” I must admit I was a little surprised. Grumman had implied, several times, that he had no intention of retiring. He didn’t seem like the sort of man who could sit in a rocking chair all day. But with his recent health issues, I remembered that Mustang had said he was being pressured into it. I waited for Mustang to continue.

It seemed he was waiting for me to say something, searching my face for a reaction. As usual, he was disappointed. Finally, he sighed. “The official announcement will be tomorrow, at the same time as the announcement of his successor.”

His voice was restless. “Do you know who that will be?” I asked. Surely, he knew already, if the announcement was being made tomorrow.

He shook his head and Hawkeye looked to the ground. “Not yet.” Hawkeye turned her head slightly toward him. I’d been around the two of them long enough to understand that look.

“What about you, lt. colonel?” I asked. Hawkeye gave me a look that convinced me. She knew. I couldn’t read her well enough to know who, though. If she didn’t want something known, it wouldn’t be known.

“I know as much as General Mustang knows.” she answered. I knew she was lying, but I was not going to push her. It wasn’t as if I wouldn’t hear the news tomorrow. What I was more interested in learning was how she knew.

“What will happen if it’s you?” For the time being, I pushed aside my questions for the lt. colonel and turned back to Mustang.

Mustang smiled. “I’ll leave for Central after making temporary arrangements. Once I get there, Ishval is my number one priority. I might promote Miles and send him back down here, if I can convince him to leave Briggs. Or ...” He trailed off.

I hated when he did this. He obviously had the whole idea in his head, and he was just waiting for me to get pulled in and ask him to continue. He always did this. I had not given in to this tactic yet. No need for his head to get any bigger.

“I could try to get an Ishvallan government set up. Let Ishval be run by Ishvallans.”

I smiled at the brightness in his eyes. “How long have you had that idea?”

He smiled sheepishly. “About a minute. That is the end goal, but I thought it would be a long ways off.”

I chuckled softly. He always had these spur of the minute ideas, and he usually burnt out on them after about a week, just in time for the new one. And if he was going to be the new fuhrer, he’d have a lot more on his plate to be thinking about. Ishval probably wouldn’t be run by Ishvallans for a while.

Toby started barking toward the entrance to my house. It seemed someone had stopped by to join us. I stood up to invite them in, and I was surprised to see Mida standing outside. She usually avoided my discussions with Mustang. She trusted the Amestrians, but she seemed afraid of him for some reason.

“Good evening, Kaliq.” she said. She seemed reluctant to be there.

“Good to see you, Mida. Come in.” I stepped back to let her in. She nodded in the general’s direction as she sat on the mat to the left of where I usually sat. Her eyes remained riveted on the floor as I sat back down.

“Your name is Mida?” Mustang asked, using the friendliest tone he had. “I’ve seen you before, but I haven’t heard your name.”

She glanced up at him briefly, smiling politely. “Yes. I’m a friend of Kaliq’s.” I was taken aback. We’d spoken on multiple occasions, and I enjoyed her company, but I’d never really considered her a friend. I thought about the people I might consider friends. There wasn’t anyone, really. Cemal was friendly toward me, Kammani was more like an aunt, ... there were the men I worked with, but none of them were what I would consider a friend. And Mida, I saw more of her than most anyone else, but that isn’t enough to be friends.

“Nice to meet you. Did you have something you wanted to ask?” Mustang still had his charm turned all the way up. Most of the other Ishvallans who came to listen to Mustang usually had questions for him, about the country, about Ishval, about upcoming projects, about particular soldiers, etc. I wondered if maybe Mida was like that. I was worried that she might have come to get angry at Mustang for what he had done.

After a moment, she shook her head. “I have something to tell you.” I could see Hawkeye tense up, expecting Mida to suddenly jump toward Mustang. But I knew Mida wouldn’t attack him. She couldn’t hurt anyone. The one other time I saw her angry, she seemed more sad than anything. She had yelled, certainly, but she remained very still, and when she finished yelling, she just stood there, her long hair draping over her face. And that had been after a long battle between her patience and the perceived wrong.

Mida raised her face to look directly into the lt. colonel’s eyes. Both Amestrians’ eyes widened. “During the war, you-” Mida abruptly stopped when her voice broke over the last word. Her fists were clenched, pressing hard into her knees. She closed her eyes, trying to control herself. Looking over at the others, Mustang’s eyes were still wide, but Hawkeye’s had softened. “You shot my sister. And her son.”

No one moved. The only sounds in the house were Mida’s short breaths as she tried to hold back her tears. We were all in a state of shock. Most of those who still held resentment toward soldiers because of the war had approached them early on in the reconstruction. I was shocked that Mida had held on to this for so long. I had listened to her convince other Ishvallans that the war was over, that the Amestrians were here to help, and I’d watched her help someone let go of their anger toward another soldier. It seemed unlike her to hold a grudge against Hawkeye for this long.

Mustang spoke, breaking the silence. “There’s something else, isn’t there?” His voice was gentle, not the usual way he spoke about the war. He was seeing something I wasn’t. Mida nodded. She ran her hands through her hair so that it fell over one shoulder and clasped her hands in her lap.

“You buried them.” It seemed there would be no end to the surprises tonight. “At the end of the day, after you shot them, you came back and buried them. I watched you.” She sobbed openly, her shoulders fell, and she bowed her head. Hawkeye was staring at the floor, looking on the verge of tears herself, and Mustang’s eyes were closed. I looked toward Mida, unsure of what to do. Suddenly, Mida looked up at Hawkeye, startling her. “Why?”

Mustang turned his head just enough to look at her out of the corner of his eyes. He looked mildly concerned, which meant he was greatly concerned. I didn’t know about Hawkeye burying those she killed. I knew most Ishvallans had been buried, but in mass graves, done by soldiers assigned to that task. Burying people, after fighting all day, must have been exhausting. I wanted to know why she did it, as well.

Hawkeye looked down at her hands. “I needed to finish what I started.” She said nothing else, and the room was silent again for a while. Mida was shocked and finally spoke.

“What do you mean?”

Hawkeye looked at the other woman. “My hands removed them from this world. Therefore, it was my job to make sure they left this world properly.” Her voice was soft, softer than I had ever heard it. But she never wavered once.

Mida nodded and her tears came in a steady pace. “Thank you.” she whispered. Her response surprised Hawkeye so much that she couldn’t control the tears that spilled over her eyelids. Mida held out her hand, and Hawkeye took it.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

When Fuery first received the telegram, he’d rushed into the break room. Thank goodness the general wasn’t there; Fuery couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. Well, not from us. I had known for a while, since we’d visited the Fuhrer in the hospital, but it was nice to know for certain. The telegram also had instructions not to inform the general until the announcement, which proved somewhat difficult for the rest of the team. After days of awkward excuses to leave the room, we were finally standing on the stage for the announcement. A representative from Central had come down for the official announcement, as other representatives had gone to all large military bases in the country. In Ishval, it just so happened that the civilians outnumbered the soldiers in the area.

Colonel Dryden gave a speech about progress and the future and all that, while the general sat next to me, in his dress uniform, subtly picking at a thread which had not previously been loose on his coat. I was worried about how Col. Dryden’s announcement would be received by the Ishvallans. The general was a part of Ishval, as much as it was a part of him. The news that he would be leaving would probably not rest well with many people. But it was necessary, as Dryden’s speech said, to keep moving forward.

“Fuhrer Grumman has made it known that he wants his successor to be a person of the people, who will continue re-fashioning this country to make its government more representative of and accessible to its people. He has decided that the fate of Amestris lies best in the hands of General Roy Mustang.”

The general froze and the muscles in his jaw relaxed from the intense position they’d been in. For a second, there was silence as Dryden’s words echoed out. Then, the applause began. Some people yelled out in approval. Gen. Mustang stood up, his face still terrified, to acknowledge their applause. He smiled, obviously faking, still in shock. It was cruel of Grumman not to tell him about his decision. But that’s who he was.

As Mustang waved his hand, and the people cheered, my heart felt as if it were growing too quickly for the confines of my ribs. I couldn’t help but smile at him. Dryden turned around to salute him, and the rest of us stood to give him the same. _He’d done it. He’d finally done it._

  
For the rest of the day, the general was congratulated, toasted, clapped on the back. And I was always there, still full of the warm pride in my commanding officer. I had heard it directly from Grumman himself, seen it on a telegram, but this. This was when it became real. The general wore his new authority well. He constantly smiled, laughing when people would joke about his slacking off, grasp hands warmly when they spoke sincerely, and he was every bit my general.

The day drew to a close and the lower-ranking soldiers went back to their barracks. A few Ishvallans stuck around longer, but by the time it was truly dark, our team was alone in the break room. The general stood, still in a state of shock, in front of the couch. The rest of us all had huge smiles on our faces.

“Do you think it’s all right for the future leader of a country to fall over onto a sofa?” His voice was shaking a bit with disbelief. Havoc, Fuery and Breda threw back their heads and roared with laughter. The smile that had been hiding on my face all day completely overtook it. Mustang turned around and plopped down onto the couch, letting out a huge sigh as a smile covered his whole face.

Havoc pulled out a box from under the table where he was sitting. “I got you a little something, sir.” He opened it up and pulled out three bottles of scotch.

“That’s a quick turn around to get that kind of drink,” Mustang said.

“Yeah, well, I had a little more time to prepare. Fuery got the news yesterday.”

The general’s smile faded a little. “Are you telling me that you all knew, BUT NO ONE TOLD ME?” He jumped back up, in his usual comic manner.

“Well, yeah, I mean, they can’t just spring information like that on us. And I think Hawkeye knew for a lot longer.” I narrowed my eyes at Fuery, who immediately got that look that Hayate gets when he wets the floor.

He turned around to me. “Is this true, Lt. Col. Hawkeye?” His voice had lowered, but it still held the same amount of indignation.

“Yes, sir.” No point in hiding it, now that Fuery had said something.

“I had thought as much.” His anger dissipated, which shocked me.

“Sir?”

“Well, what else could Grumman have been talking to you about when we were in Central?” He put on his usual goofy grin and got a glass down from the cabinet. I knew he wasn’t finished with me, but he was putting on a show for the guys, so I played along. I didn’t drink any of the scotch, though; I can’t stand it.

Finally, after one and half bottles had been finished, the rest of the team headed off to bed. Mustang had waved them off, saying he needed a minute alone in the break room. I stayed behind, afraid to leave him on his own. As it turns out, he didn’t want to be by himself.

“You knew?” He was more than a little intoxicated, but his speech and intention were clear.

“Yes, sir.”

“How long?”

“Grumman told me in Central, when he spoke to me alone.” I didn’t know how the general would react. He didn’t seem particularly thrilled with my not telling him, but he didn’t seem angry.

He stood up and walked toward me, smiling gently. “Thank you.”

I was apprehensive about the way he was acting. He seemed too familiar right now. “For what, sir?”

His smile widened briefly. “At the moment? Not telling me.” He stopped a few feet from me, surprisingly steady for how much alcohol he’d drunk. “If I had known, today wouldn’t have been as wonderful as it has been. So thank you for that.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” My eyes widened as he started reaching out to me, coming closer. Seeing my reaction, he quickly put his hand on his hair, as if that had been his intention all along.

“It’s not just that, though. Thank you for everything. You are the reason I’ve gotten to this point. And really, it’s more like ... we’ve gotten to this point.” He dropped his hand back down his side and I could have sworn his face grew even more flushed than it already had been. He stared straight into my eyes as he stepped toward me, taking my hand. “Thank you.”

I smiled back. “You’ll always have my support.”

He chuckled at that, his eyes crinkling with warmth. He pulled me closer into a hug, and I was terrified. I wasn’t used to him being a happy drunk, or hugging me. His arms tightened around me as he whispered, “We did it, Riza.”

For a second, I let myself relax. I put my arms around him, rested my head on his shoulder. “Yes, we did, sir.” He let his cheek rest against my head and we just stood like that for a while.

Then, he said, “You smell nice.”

I laughed and pulled away. “That’s very kind of you, sir.” His eyes had that look I was so used to ignoring, and I smiled. “It’s time we went to bed. Long day tomorrow.”

He gave me a sloppy salute. “Yes, sir!” I almost had to push him out of the room, but I did get him back to his door. I turned to go back to my room, and he grabbed my arm.

I sighed. This wasn’t the first time I’d had to deal with him like this. “No, sir.” He began stroking my palm. _Thank God I'm sober._ “Good night, sir.” I pulled my hand away and walked back down the hallway. I cursed myself as I felt my legs swinging more than necessary. I always did this when I knew he was watching me.

But soon he would be Fuhrer, and he’d be able to reshape the nation. The pressure would be intense. So maybe letting him watch me walk away wouldn’t be so terrible.


	8. Scintillating

**September 1919**

**Kaliq**

Two months after the announcement was made, we all gathered around our radios. Mida and I, as well as several others came together to listen to it in the Kanda Gathering House. One man fiddled with the dials, trying to clear up the sound as much as possible. Mida placed her hand on my shoulder and squeezed it. I gave her a brief smile as we waited, holding our breath. Then, the loud sound of music hit us, bursting out of the small box sitting on the table. I recognized it as Battle Hymn of Amestris, one of the most ‘patriotic’ songs in the country. After a few minutes, the song ended, and the announcer began speaking over the waves.

“Welcome back! For those of you just now joining us, we are covering Fuhrer Mustang’s inauguration ceremony in front of Central Command. This is indeed a momentous occasion, as the first peaceful transition of power this country has ever seen. Many of you probably remember the last transition, from the late Fuhrer King Bradley to-” The sound suddenly cut out.

Grumbles of discontent came from some of the people listening to the radio as that guy tried to get it back. After several minutes, we did manage to get sound back.

“-aide, Lieutenant Colonel Riza Hawkeye, accompanied by Colonel Imman Miles.” The announcer rattled on about their achievements and recent activities, as well as their relationships with the Fuhrer. I thought back to a conversation I’d had with Hawkeye before they left.

“I missed the last inauguration. What is it, exactly?”

She gave me a tired smile. “A lot of formalities, really. The main part is the oath. The rest of it is mostly just hand-waving and speeches. But that’s what he’s good at.” She nodded in the direction of the general, who was chatting with a few Ishvallans.

“How long does it last?”

“Longer than is comfortable. Personally, I think they should just do away with all the introductions and processions and all of that, and just have him walk in to the fuhrer's office, take the oath, and have done with it.” She sounded vaguely annoyed.

“You hate it that much?”

She sighed. “I don’t hate it. It’s just a big mess to deal with, security wise. You’ve got him, standing on an open balcony, not to mention every other important official in Amestris, in front of a large crowd, and me in a dress uniform.”

I raised my brow. “You won’t be on security detail?”

She shook her head. “I’m his personal assistant. I haven’t been on security detail for any public event since before the Promised Day.”

I could just imagine her up there in the throng of important people. Her and Miles. They probably put them next to each other so that other people wouldn’t have to listen to them gripe. Not that they would, of course. Neither of them were very open about their dislike of public events at said events.

They went through a list of other people, including Major General Armstrong. The announcers discussed the rumors of her candidacy, even though nothing official had been released about the people Grumman had been considering. I didn’t understand the media, creating conflict where there was none.

Finally, a fanfare started playing. “Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fuhrer of Amestris, Lionel Grumman, accompanied by Fuhrer Appointed Roy Mustang, Parliament Sergeant at Arms, Major Alex Louis Armstrong, Parliament Speaker, Josef Duval, Chancellor Augustin Richards, and Head of the Parliament Committee for Inauguration, Charles Erikson.” The crowd cheered as a band played the Military Salute, the song of the Fuhrer. The announcer named every person that either Grumman or Mustang spoke to, and there were plenty of names.

Mida grasped my hand, staring intently at the little brown box. I was startled, but I didn’t pull away. If it made her feel better, then I would hold her hand.

That Erikson man was announced again, and he spoke for several minutes about the “simplicity” of the ceremony. I rolled my eyes at that, and I could almost see Hawkeye and Miles doing the same. He continued his speech for a while, most of which was anecdotes about the country’s past. After him, there were six people, some from the parliament, some from the military, that spoke about transferring power, the importance of a peaceful transition, the power and responsibility of government, etc.

Then, Fuhrer Grumman and General Roy Mustang came up to perform the oath.

Grumman’s voice came over the radio. “General Roy Mustang, are you willing to take the oath?”

Mustang answered. “I am willing.”

“Do you solemnly swear to govern the people of Amestris and other territories to any of them belonging or pertaining, according to their respective laws and customs?”

 

Mustang answered. “I solemnly swear so to do.”

“And will you, to your power, cause law and justice and mercy to be executed in all your judgements?”

“I will.”

“Will you, to your power, promote the welfare of the Amestrian peoples and protect them from harm?”

“I will.”

“And will you, to your power, uphold and defend the Basic law and the laws of the federation?”

“All this, I swear to do.” There was some rustling, and then Mustang continued. “The things which I have here before promised, I will perform and keep.”

The loudest cheering we’d heard yet came over the radio, as well as more music. Mida wiped her eyes, ducking her head. She explained to me that she wanted him to be fuhrer, so that he could help the rest of Amestris the way that he had helped Ishval. The other people listening with us were hugging, laughing, some crying. I reached out to Mida, who looked up, surprised. She smiled, and approached me with a hug. The moment was much anticipated, and emotions were running high. I’d had so little human contact in over a decade, I accepted her embrace.

Most of the other people in the room were shouting, excited about the inauguration. But for me, the inauguration was less exciting and more ... right. I trusted Mustang to lead this country, and to change it for the better. So it seemed a more apt expression of my feelings about the situation to quietly embrace a friend. Mida’s armed tightened slightly, and I looked down to make sure she was all right. She had tears on her face, which she let run down her cheeks. Some of them were absorbed into my _arkaluk_ , darkening the light fabric. I pulled back just enough so that she looked up at me. She wore the most beautiful smile I had ever seen, with deep wrinkles surrounding her wide mouth. My stomach suddenly became uneasy and a lump formed in my throat. But I smiled back, and raised my hand to wipe away a tear that had settled on her jaw.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The first few days back in Central involved an uncomfortable amount of shopping. First, those who weren’t becoming fuhrer needed to find a place to live. I was exempt from that, thank goodness, as I was made personal adjutant to the fuhrer. The quarters for that position were located in the same building as the Fuhrer’s residence. But I needed to shop for furniture, as the previous tenant took everything with him when he left. Then, there was clothes shopping, something which I was never fond of. Don’t misunderstand, I enjoy trying on different clothing. It’s just that I sometimes have difficulty finding suitable clothing to hide certain features. However, because of the general’s new status, and by extension, my new status, I needed more formal clothing for events, including the inauguration.

Madame Christmas, who knew the gist of my situation, recommended a few places that were more modest, as the latest fashions were rather revealing. I was grateful for her advice, although the first store she recommended was a little too outdated for my tastes. The second store on the list, the Lilac Boutique, seemed perfect. I had picked out a high-necked green dress to try on when a familiar figure came through the door.

“Lt. Col. Hawkeye!” The brown-haired woman with the young girl smiled at me. “It’s great to see you!”

I smiled back. “It’s great to see you, too, Ms. Hughes.” I looked down at the child. “And look at you, Elicia. You’ve grown so much!” Elicia smiled widely.

“How are you settling in?” Gracia asked.

I sighed. “There’s a lot to be done. My apartment is just furnished enough to be liveable at this point, and I need to get a whole new wardrobe.”

The woman nodded toward the dress I was holding. “Is that for the inauguration?” I nodded. “Hmm.” She looked down at her daughter. “Do you want to help Lt. Col. Hawkeye today, honey?”

“Yeah!” Elicia nodded emphatically. I looked at Gracia for an explanation.

She laughed. “She’s been going through this phase where she wants to give everyone a makeover. I hope you don’t mind.”

I smiled down at the girl. “I don’t mind at all. I could use the help.” Kneeling down, dress still in hand, I seriously into Elicia’s eyes. “I’m entrusting my fate to you, Elicia.” She giggled.

The rest of the day was a blast. I would model almost any dress Elicia picked out for me, the ones that hid my secret, and she would comment on the style, the color, or the ornaments, whichever she liked best. In the end, with her advice, I chose a sleeveless dark blue dress, slightly darker than my uniform, with a bateau neckline. I chose a matching blue sheer jacket, just enough to give me a little bit of sleeve. It was simple, which suited me, but there was this wonderful elegance when it shifted. I felt slightly embarassed; it was too beautiful of a dress for me. But it suited my needs, so I bought it. Luckily, it was one of the less expensive of the dresses Elicia had liked, and it was less than I expected to pay. I didn’t accept the general’s offer to pay for the dress. He had wanted to, as it was because of him that I had to bother with it, but he wouldn’t be the one choosing or wearing it, so I told him no. Besides, who knows what other occasions I would have to wear this dress?

I left the store with the Hughes’, bag in hand. “Would you like to have lunch with us, lt. colonel?” Gracia asked.

“That would be nice. And you can call me Riza.” As we discussed where to go, Elicia, standing between us, slipped her hand into mine. I was surprised; the girl and I were acquainted, of course, but I hadn’t been around her very much. The rare times I had been were when I was with the general on a visit, or when Brigadier General Hughes threw a party.  Her hand felt so small and soft. It was nice.

We went to a deli closer to Central Command, because, as Elicia explained, “It’s my favorite!” There were a few tables outside, with many off-duty military personnel. We were seated by the hostess in the far corner of the patio.

“So, what has changed since you were last in Central?” Gracia asked.

I thought back over the past year. “Chise had another litter of puppies. All but one of them were adopted by Ishvallan families.”

“Puppies?!” Elicia asked excitedly. “Can I see them?”

I looked at Gracia who nodded. “We can go meet her later, if your mother says it’s all right.”

Elicia did her best imitation of Black Hayate, and Gracia sighed. “You don’t have to convince me. We can go meet the puppy. That is, if it’s not intruding.”

“Not at all. I haven’t had any guests, yet.” We talked a bit about Ishval, and about Elicia’s school project. She’d had to artistically represent the water cycle, and she was very proud of her sculpture. We finished lunch and headed back to my apartment for Elicia to meet the puppy.

She and Amete hit it off right away, feeding off of each other’s energy. When Elicia asked about adopting her, I felt a little sorry for Gracia. Of course Elicia would want to keep Amete; every child wants a pet. Gracia smiled wearily at me as she explained to Elica that they couldn’t take care of a puppy. Elicia took it all in stride, surprisingly, and kept playing with the dogs, who enjoyed her company. Gracia and I sat on the sofa.

“Is Roy nervous about becoming the fuhrer?” she asked. She was one of the few people who knew the other side of the general, the side that wasn’t the charming leader.

“A little. He’s been expecting this for a while, but I think it’s finally hitting him.” I was in unfamiliar territory. I didn’t have many female friends, no friends outside the military. Gracia frightened me, honestly. She seemed so sure of herself, and so content with her life, even though she was raising Elicia by herself. I didn’t know how to talk to her.

“I remember when he and Maes used to talk on the phone for hours, outlining plans for promotion, networking with higher-ranking officers, and all that. Maes always had such faith in him.” Her smile was knowing and kind as she spoke of her husband.

“His faith was much appreciated. Even now, the thought of him keeps the general on the right track.”

“That’s good to hear.” We sat in silence, watching Hayate chase Elicia around the room.

“How are you two doing?” I asked. Raising a child by yourself was difficult. I remembered my own father, completely consumed by loss, neglecting everything but his work, trying to bring her back. Gracia was nothing like him, and I was immensely grateful for that, for Elicia’s sake.

“We’re all right. Elicia’s growing up to be just like her father, which is tiresome sometimes. I’m lucky I’ve got the job that I do. My boss is very understanding.”

“Are you still working at the newspaper office?” She was the secretary for one of the editors of Amestris Today, the widest circulated newspaper in the country.

Gracia nodded. “I work four days a week, during school hours. I have Mondays off to run errands without Elicia. It’s not much, but we’re still getting a pension from the military, thanks to Maes, so we’re making do.” I admired her greatly. She was probably the strongest person I knew. “And you’ve got a new job,” she said, obviously changing the subject.

I smiled, but let her direct the conversation. “Yes. I’m doing the same thing I always have, except now I’m getting paid for it.” We both laughed. Gracia and Hughes were probably the only two in the world who knew the extent of the relationship between the general and me. That was one of the reasons I’d never really spoken to Gracia; I’d been reluctant to speak with someone who knew so many details about my life without knowing me first.

Gracia’s eyes followed her daughter around the room. “So what’s next for our fuhrer?”

It seemed that Gracia was just as skilled as the general or me at keeping her true thoughts hidden. “What do you mean? What does he plan to do as fuhrer?”

“Not exactly.” She smiled apologetically at me. “There are ... rumors about him.”

“What kind of rumors?” She was obviously reluctant to broach this subject, and that put me on edge. Whatever it was didn’t seem particularly threatening, but if there was something that I missed ...

“Well, people are intrigued by a man of Roy’s age remaining ... unattached.” She laughed when I raised my eyebrows. “The most recent fuhrer had been married for years before she died of a terminal illness. The fuhrer before him married long before he came into the role. People like a balanced leader.”

“Balanced?”

“I mean they like someone who has some grounding, someone to ground him.” I knew where she was trying to go with this.

“Gracia, do you really think-” Elicia ran up to us at that point.

“You should marry Uncle Roy!” she said, a knowing smile on her face. She looked exactly like her father with that expression, minus the glasses. Gracia appeared just as surprised as me.

I chuckled. “I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“I’m in love with my job.” I smiled. It was true, I did love what I did. Elicia frowned at me, squishing her lips to the side like she was thinking of something. Then, she abruptly shrugged and walked off.

Gracia looked at me with a raised eyebrow. “What?” I asked.

“I may not know you very well, Riza, but that was a bit of a loaded statement.”

“What do you mean?”

“‘I’m in love with my job?’” She gave me a sideways look.

I huffed and smiled, slightly exasperated. Everyone around us was convinced there was something between the general and me. “I like the work that I do, and I believe in the cause that I’m supporting. And there are many other reasons why the general and I shouldn’t ...” She laughed at my flustered state. But really, how could she think that? “For starters, there is not, nor has there ever been, any romantic anything between him and me. And even if there were, neither of us has any intention of leaving the military any time soon. Not only are there laws against relationships within the military, it’s a bad idea.” On top of all of that, if the general completed the entirety of his goal, neither of us would be around much longer. I shot an annoyed look away from Gracia or Elicia. I was tired of people assuming things they shouldn’t.

Gracia gave me a concerned smile. “All right. It seems we’ve hit on a touchy subject. What I was saying before Elicia stepped in is that people don’t like a leader who doesn’t have a family. They see someone who blows around, and Roy’s reputation doesn’t help with that. You and I both know that he isn’t really like that, but the general public doesn’t. Think about how often they’ve seen a more serious side of him.” She had a point. The general was the war hero, a skilled soldier, and very charismatic, but people also saw him as a cocky playboy who frequented places of lesser repute. A steady relationship would certainly tone down that particular impression of him. It wouldn’t be a bad strategic move. I didn’t like the idea, mostly because we’d be using someone to make him look better, but I’d talk to him about it.

I smiled at her. “Sorry if I came off a bit harsh. It’s just that a lot of people think there’s something more going on between us,” My mind wandered to Havoc, “and in Central, they tend to make a bigger deal of it.”

“Fair enough. I think it’s time we got going. We’re having dinner with a family from Elicia’s school, and we have to get ready.” We both stood up off the couch. “Come on, Elicia.” Elicia left her spot next to Chise. “Say thank you to Miss Riza.”

“Thanks for letting me play with your dogs,” the nine-year-old said.

“You’re welcome. I think Amete likes you.” To Gracia, I said, “You are welcome anytime, if you’d like to stop by. I don’t get many chances to talk to other women.”

Gracia laughed. “I bet not. We’ll see you around.” I closed the door behind them, suddenly aware of how quiet my rooms were. Even with three dogs, one less than a year old, this didn’t even compare to the way it was in Ishval. It would take some getting used to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inauguration ceremony was adapted from both England's coronation and the U.S.'s inauguration.


	9. Simmer

**September 1919**

**Kaliq**

“Stop!” I heard a familiar voice shouting in terror as the owner of the voice ran toward a young boy taking a sip from his brother’s canteen. The boy’s face screwed up as he spit it back out on the ground. Other people around the site stopped to look as the shorter, rounder man stopped in front of the boys. He took the canteen from the boy and poured a little into a small container he pulled out of a pocket.

I approached them, worried about them causing a scene. “What’s going on?”

The man turned to face me, and I drew back in surprise. Dr. Marcoh seemed as stunned to see me as I was to see him. It had been three years since I’d last seen him, when he expressed a desire to withdraw from the main part of Ishval. He said he’d met someone who remembered him from the war, and he didn’t want his presence to cause discomfort. For him to be back now meant something was definitely going on.

“Ah, it’s you.” He handed the little vial of water to me. “I think there’s something wrong with the most recent shipment of water.” I looked into the container and saw tiny, white flecks floating around. If he was right, and the entire shipment was contaminated, we were in trouble. We’d been trying to find a steady water supply since we’d arrived back in Ishval, but the damage to the landscape was too severe for us to use the reservoirs we’d used previously. We’d managed to find a decent amount of clean water, but not enough for all of us. Capt. Havoc had struck a deal with the municipal government of East City. We desperately needed that water. He turned back to the boy. “Did it taste strange?”

He nodded. Marcoh seemed to be overwhelming the kid, so I knelt down in front of him. “What did it taste like?” I kept my voice even and quiet, unlike Marcoh’s excited tone.

“It was salty,” the younger one muttered. He didn’t like the attention the rest of the workers around were giving us. He was about nine years old, so he probably remembered living in slums around Amestris. He probably remembered his parents or his older brother warning him that attention was bad.

But the water was salty. I asked for the canteen, which they gave to me. Marcoh seemed wary as I took a little taste of it. It was salty, but it was something else. It was diluted, like someone had put chalk dust in it. It was nasty. “Where did you fill up your canteen?” I asked the older boy.

“At the military base.” Many of the workers who didn’t have a permanent home, yet, stopped by the military base in the morning for food and water. The older brother had a hardened look in his eyes, like someone who had the fight for everything he had, and who didn’t hope that things would work out in their favor. He must have been in his early teens, probably an orphan, taking care of his brother.

“Can you show us?” Marcoh asked, his tone decidedly calmer. The boys nodded and we followed them back. I waved to the other workers, to say that I would be back later. We were finishing up work in the Ziran residential district, which had been the poorer neighbor of Gunja. During the war, Ziran was the most badly hit, probably because of the weaker architecture. Many artisans chose to settle there when they returned. The others would make do without me for a little while.

Marcoh stopped abruptly on the way to the base. When I turned to look at him, he said, “Go on ahead. I’ll catch up.” He didn’t meet my eyes, and I knew he was lying. I took his arm and roughly moved him forward. “What are you doing?!” The boys were watching us with wide eyes.

“Come on,” I called to them, “we need to report this as soon as possible.” To Marcoh, I lowered my voice so the kids wouldn’t hear us. “You’re the one who figured this out. You need to be the one to talk to Miles.” Marcoh continued to protest, but I ignored him. Some things were more important than personal problems.

At the base, two of the soldiers on Miles’ team told us to wait while they went to Miles. He was in a meeting with Xingese officials about the trade agreement. I thought that had been settled months ago, but apparently there were still things to talk about. Marcoh fidgeted, which put the boys on edge as well.

“What are your names?” I asked them, trying to get them to think about something else.

The older one answered, “I’m Vedran, and this is Yasef.” He held his brother’s hand tightly, despite the younger boy’s constant movement.

“Where do you live?”

“In Kanda, with our cousin.” For some reason, it was obvious that Vedran respected me, albeit begrudgingly. He was answering my questions, truthfully, from what I could tell.

“What is your cousin’s name?” I wondered if it was someone I knew. Their family was familiar to me, and it would be nice to hear news of my former brother.

“Her name is Agniya. She’s married to Suraya.” I did remember Agniya. She was no more than a child during the war, and she would bring pastries to the monks. Suraya sounded familiar, but I couldn’t put the name to a face.

“Do you remember anything about the water this morning?” Dr. Marcoh asked. Vedran seemed startled by his sudden intrusion on our conversation, but he answered.

“It was normal. They had the big tanks and people were in line to fill up their canteens. The guys that filled up mine said that the tanks just arrived the night before.”

The door that led to the conference rooms opened and Colonel Miles walked in. “Sca- excuse me, Kaliq, I was told you wanted to see me?” He stopped when he saw Marcoh, waiting for one of us to say something.

“Something’s wrong with the recent water delivery,” Marcoh said. His voice was quiet and his hood fell over his eyes. He preferred to keep out of the military’s radar.

Miles frowned. “And you boys?”

Vedran’s eyes widened but he answered smoothly. “We have some of the water to show you.”

Miles turned his eyes back to me. “I’m assuming you came with them because the doctor here asked you to?”

“I came with them because the doctor was reluctant to report this.”

He smirked. “I bet. Come with me, we’ll examine the water.”

In one of the conference rooms, we showed Miles the vial of water, with the particles still clearly visible. He sipped out of the canteen and swallowed, grimacing. Marcoh explained to him his theory that the water came from a contaminated underground spring, and that the people who sent it to us probably didn’t know about it. Miles ordered a team to go to East City and find the source of the water. It wouldn’t be good for East City to have this water, either. When that was done, I returned to work with fresh water. The boys were sent to the other work sites to tell everyone else about the water.

Some of the people I worked with suspected foul play. It crossed my mind when I first saw it, I’ll admit, but it had been five years. Why would someone start this now? Obviously, it was just a mistake someone made along the supply route. Either someone put it in the wrong tank or the water was already contaminated. And it would soon be fixed.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

I adjusted my hips so that they fit snugly against his as his fingers pushed my hair out of the way. His lips brushed lightly across my neck, and my whole body tensed as his hand played with the top of my pants. His other arm held me firmly against his chest, quelling my squirming. His chuckled roughly as I moaned and moved up to nibble my ear. “Roy” I breathed, praying for his hand to stop toying with the drawstring and dip down.

“aAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHSHHHHHHHH!!” A shout jolted me awake, instantly disseminating any lingering pleasure from the dream. It was still dark outside the window, but I felt instantly awake, waiting for the next clue as to what that scream could have been. I reached into the drawer of the nightstand for my gun and tucked it into the back of my pants.

“NOOO!!! NO! STOP!” That was the fuhrer’s voice, and my mind went blank as I rushed out into the hall. I ran to the fuhrer’s door and threw it open. Fuhrer Mustang was crouched against the wall next to the stairs, his head in his hands. I dropped down beside him.

“Sir!” My voice startled him, and he looked up at me with wide eyes, pupils dilated.

“I ORDERED YOU TO STOP!” he yelled as he lunged at me. He was still dreaming. He knocked me to the floor, pinning me down. I had seen his night terrors before, and the only way to help him was to play along.

“I have stopped, sir,” I said as gently as I could.

“Don’t go in there!” His eyes filled with tears, which shocked me more than anything else. I’d only seen him cry once before, no matter how bad the dreams had gotten.

“I won’t, sir. I promise. I’ll stay right here.” My shoulders were starting to hurt from where he was pushing them against the floor. My words seemed to take the wind out of him as he slowly relaxed, his hands still holding onto my shoulders. His eyes refocused and widened. “Sir?” I asked.

He sat back on his knees and looked away. I didn’t move. “Sir, are you awake?” He backed off of my legs and nodded.

I sat up and waited for him to say something. He said nothing for a very long time and then stood up, turning to the stairs. My heart sank when he put his hand on the rails. “Say something, sir.”

His head turned back toward me, halting and twitching. “I’m sorry, lt. colonel. I’m all right.” His eyes were far away, back in the dream. He began to climb the stairs.

“Sir, wait.” I stood and moved to the foot of the stairs. He didn’t stop, so I started up.

He turned to look at me then. “Lt. colonel, I’m fine. Go back to bed.” His tone was an order, so I saluted him.

“I can’t do that, sir.” His shoulders slumped even further down. “Please, sir.”

“What do you want me to do?!” He turned around completely, fire in his eyes. I set my mouth, preparing for the battle.

“I want you to face this. Whatever it was that you were dreaming about, I haven’t heard about it, yet, which means it’s something you believe is the worst thing you’ve ever seen or done. The nightmares will come back, and I want both of us to be prepared.” I dropped my salute and glared right back at him. “You need to stop running from it, sir.”

His glare faltered for a second. “Lt. Col. Hawkeye, you are- just- uhhh!”

“I know, sir. ‘The most frustrating person you’ve ever met.’” He came back down to stand on the same step as me. I turned to follow him down, but his hands gripped my shoulders and pushed me against the wall. I grunted when my head hit the wall, but his mouth covered up the sound and I was so confused. I pushed him back immediately, furious. “Sir!” He seemed just as shocked as I was, but that didn’t stop me. “That was- You can’t-” I took a breath to get a hold of myself. “That was not okay, sir.”

He lowered his eyes and put his hand in his hair. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” I reached up to touch the place where my head had hit the wall, which was starting to feel very sore. My heart was racing, but I decided to ignore that for now. Just like I was ignoring my dream.

“Let’s just get some water or something and talk about your dream, all right?” Neither of us moved. I wasn’t going to move until he did, taking my cues from him.

“Look, lt. colonel, I ... can’t talk about this right now. I’m ... I need to relax, and ... you’re not helping.” He never once looked at me while he talked.

I suddenly had a very strange thought and struggled to keep color from rushing to my face. “I understand, sir. We can talk about it in the morning. I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble.” I walked back down the remaining steps and opened the adjoining door to my apartment.

Hayate was waiting for me, tail down and ears flat. He’d probably heard the screaming, and now could see my nerves. I closed the door behind me and knelt down to pet him. I murmured soothing things, as much for myself as for him. I got a glass of water and tried to read a little, to clear my head, but I couldn’t concentrate on the words. The one question I had thought of in the other room wouldn’t leave me. What did he do on those nights he had nightmares and no one was there? I had Hayate and Chise, and now Amete, but the fuhrer, he was all alone. I suddenly felt exhausted and returned to bed. It was my turn to have a nightmare.

_She was nothing but fire, screaming, and all I could do was watch her run across the yard, frozen like the man on the porch. Then he started screaming, running after her, calling for her to stop. She collapsed, and he on top of her, trying to smother the flames with his own body. But it was too late. The awful smell filled everything, everywhere, and all I knew was that smell. My small legs gave out and I fell, dropping my doll made of straw. Looking down, the doll with the green eyes began to burn, and everything around me was engulfed. I saw him walking toward me, bleeding, reaching out, needles in his hands. I screamed and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, he was replaced by his student, his eyes bright, looking at the flames around us with excitement. Suddenly, I was very afraid of my father’s student. Afraid that he would do to someone what my father did to my mother. And then, I was on fire._

“Hawkeye!” I felt and hand grip my arm and my eyes flew open, mid-scream. I shot up, and collided with someone leaning over me. It was him, my father’s student. My eyes widened and I yelped. But then, I felt a soreness on the back of my head, and I knew where I was. I took several deep breaths, trying to slow my heart back to a normal pace. The buildings outside the window were outlined with blue, meaning dawn would be in less than an hour.

“Are you all right?” He was rubbing his shoulder, where my head had slammed into it.

I closed my eyes briefly, but the image of the flaming woman was still branded onto my eyelids, so I quickly opened them. “Yes, sir. It was just a dream.”

He scoffed. “Isn’t it always?” He sat down in a chair he’d pulled up next to my bed. “We make quite a team.”

I smiled weakly. It was only a few hours ago that our situations were reversed. “Did I say anything?” He knew some of what my dream was about, but there were parts I wanted to keep to myself, for his sake.

He shook his head. “You were calling for your mom. That’s when I came in. But you didn’t say anything.”

Thank goodness for that. “Did I wake you?” Hopefully, he’d fallen back to sleep after I left.

“No, I was reading over some old reports. I hadn’t been able to go back to bed.” He smirked. “Both of us in one night. It’s been a while since that happened.”

I smiled wryly back, pushing the blankets off to sit on the edge of my bed. “Yes, it has.” I stood up, stretching. “It’s too late to go back to sleep, now, sir. Would you like something to drink?”

He raised an eyebrow at me. “You just woke up screaming. Sit.” He pointed at my bed, which he was still sitting in front of.

I narrowed my eyes. “Sir, you know what I was dreaming about.”

“That’s true.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “But I don’t know why you were terrified of me when you woke up.” His face didn’t change, he didn’t even look at me.

Like Hell I was ever going to tell him that bit. “I didn’t recognize you, sir.”

“You’re lying, colonel. You weren’t as scared until you saw me. I saw your face change.” He gestured to the bed again, and I crossed my arms.

“No, sir. Equivalent exchange. Now, would you like something to drink?”

“What? Oh, forget the drink. What about equivalent exchange?”

It was my turn to shrug. “I will tell you about my dream when you tell me about yours. I think I’ll make some coffee.” I walked out into the kitchen. The scuff of the chair against the floor and footsteps told me that I had won that round.

For several minutes, as I fiddled with the coffee pot, we were silent. Then, the fuhrer said, “Umm, lt. colonel, I wanted to apologize for, uh, what I did. Last night. I was completely out of line.”

His words reddened my cheeks, like an idiot. “I’m not going to say that it’s all right, but I forgive you.” His answering sigh was long and weighted. It brought that question back into my head, and I tried to force it down. I really didn’t want to know if I was right, but I was concerned about it in general. “Sir?” I began.

“Yes?” His tone seemed expecting, like he was nervous about what I was about to say.

“When you have dreams like that, and there isn’t anyone around, what do you do?”

I could sense him tense up, like he had some secret about that he didn’t want anyone else to know. I turned around to face him, and his face was red. “Well, I, uh, think about, um, things that people have said to me, and that, uh, helps me calm down.”

Obviously he was lying, but I wasn’t going to push it if it embarrassed him that much. If I was right, then I didn’t need for things to be more awkward than they already were. I sat down at the little table, and he did the same, face still red.

“Last night, you said that I wasn’t helping.” I wondered if maybe I’d never helped him with his nightmares, that he’d always just played along with me so that I would feel better.

His head shot up and the color drained from his face. “No! I meant that … ugh” His shoulders slumped again, and he gave me a tired, goofy grin. “I just keep putting my foot in my mouth around you today.” His grin left as he said, “That dream, that memory, it’s my worst memory of Ishval, and I just didn’t want to deal with it. I’ve blocked it out, for the most part, but it comes back in dreams. I’ve only dreamt about it three times: the first, in Ishval with Hughes, then in Central, alone, and now, last night.”

I couldn’t imagine him screaming like that, waking up alone in his old apartment. I never wanted him to wake up alone with those memories. I vowed that I would never let him wake up to that alone, ever again. When the time came for him to vacate the fuhrer’s residence, I’d make sure we lived next door to each other, so that I’d be there when he woke up.


	10. Scald

**September 1919**

**Kaliq**

Dr. Marcoh had tried to sink back into the corner of Ishval he’d been hiding in for the past few years, but Colonel Miles would have none of that. At first, there was quite a bit of resentment on both sides. Marcoh wanted nothing to do with the military, and Miles couldn’t understand why Marcoh would refuse to help his countrymen. Somehow, they dragged me into their conflicts, both pleading with me to convince the other of their case. The issue with the water had not yet been resolved, making it worse. The source in East City was checked, over and over, but they found no impurities in the water. The tank was thoroughly examined, but it was clean. A creeping suspicion rose in my mind that it was foul play. I tried to dismiss it; there was no need to jump to the worst conclusion. I wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Osman made his opinion quite clear when he learned of the water.

“It’s the damn Amestrians! They’re trying to poison us!” Luckily, most people ignored him. What worried me was that he did bring up the idea that it wasn’t an accident.

Cemal tried to take our minds off of it in his usual, jovial manner. He entertained us with stories from his time as a novice, before the war. The other monks and myself occasionally had to correct him on a few details - “I doubt she breathed fire, _malim_ ” - and he succeeded in sufficiently distracting us so that we continued working with renewed vigor.

The boys took to following me around. I didn’t particularly mind; they were hard-workers. In fact, if they hadn’t been at the worksite in Lejia, we would have been in a tough spot. A young man, no more than twenty years old, had begun scaling the scaffolding to reach the roof of the gathering house we were working on. None of the adults noticed anything amiss, but Yasef cried out and pointed at the base of the scaffold. The rest of us stopped and checked where he was pointing. One of the corner poles had come loose from its base, and was shaking under the weight of the man. We quickly recalled him back down, and luckily, he hadn’t reached the top. He jumped down. The sudden release of weight caused the pole to come loose entirely and it fell to the ground. The whole scaffold leaned dangerously over. Vedran hurried to pick up the pole. I took it from him and placed it back where it was supposed to be. I noticed no fractures in the structure that would cause it to come apart like that. And the pole fit so snugly back in that I didn’t understand how it came undone in the first place. This was the third near miss we’d had since the water, less than a week ago. It was getting harder to push the suspicions out of my head.

That evening, I sat down to a meal with Agniya, Suraya, Vedran, Yasef, and Mida. Mida and Suraya were cousins, and good friends before the war. She told me that she spent most of her time with their family. Many families were torn apart, most not finding each other again. Those that didn’t die in the war were lucky to survive the slums of Amestris or the unforgiving desert. Cemal, my second cousin once removed’s betrothed’s brother was the closest thing I had to family. Kimblee had seen to that. But that was just as well. It meant that few people knew me from the time before.

Agniya passed me a plate with what appeared to be the Amestrian bread called popovers. “I altered it a bit, but they make excellent side dishes.” she explained. I enjoyed the meal immensely. Most of my meals were eaten alone, with the odd visit from my master, Cemal, or Mida. As much as I was truly an Ishvallan again, many of my people maintained distance from me. But I was content with that. After all, how could I ever let myself become one of them, entirely, after what I’d done? Only my master knew the details, and I was sure that if others learned about my transgressions, I would be cast out again. However, sitting down with a family, even one that was not my own, was nice.

“Guess what happened today!” Yasef proudly smiled at Suraya.

She put on the smile of a mother with a talkative child. “What?”

“I saved a man!” I was startled. The last thing I wanted to do was bring up today’s incident with Mida in the room. The worry in her eyes when she heard of the other incidents was enough to make anyone take pause.

Agniya’s eyes lit up. “You did?” Mida glanced at me, somehow able to sense my uneasiness.

Yasef nodded. “The building ladder thing was broken, and I helped fix it!” Vedran smiled warmly at his brother, just as proud of Yasef as he was. Suraya’s smile dropped and she turned to me.

“That’s the third time this week.” I nodded in response. “Are they really coincidences?” Yasef looked confused. He was ready for the praise of his acts, and instead he had made his aunt worry.

“There’s nothing to say that they aren’t.” I said. Suraya grit her teeth, obviously wanting to discuss it further. But she smiled down at Yasef, dispelling the tension in the room. Suraya was known for being able to manipulate the emotions of a situation.

The evening passed without further consequence, and Yasef grew irritable. Agniya apologized for him, explaining that he always got like that when he was tired. Mida smiled at her, and I suddenly felt as if I was suffering from a strange form of indigestion.

“That’s completely understandable. We should go, and let you all wind down.” Mida turned to me. “Come on, Kaliq. We can walk together.” Agniya raised her eyebrows at me, for some unknown reason.

I returned Mida’s smile. “If you insist. Thank you for the meal, Agniya.” I nodded to our hosts, who bowed their heads to me in return.

“You are always welcome here. Vedran and Yasef enjoy your company.” Vedran looked away as Agniya spoke, so I couldn’t tell if her words were true. But I had gotten attached to them, to their determined spirits.

Mida and I walked out into the air, which was cooling considerably from the day. We had traveled to the next road before she spoke. “There was another problem today?” Her voice was troubled, and I couldn’t make out her face in the dim light.

I hesitated to answer her. I didn’t want anything to tarnish her smile. “It was minor. The scaffolding probably just wore out from use. We fixed it without any problems, thanks to Yasef, so there’s no reason to worry.”

We had just rounded to corner to the road where Mida lived when we heard a voice calling out, “Kaliq!” Turning to the sound, I saw Osman limping quickly toward us, clutching his shoulder. “It’s the Amestrians, like I told everyone! They messed with the scaffolding, the water, the plaster-” his voice cut off as he hissed in pain.

I rushed to him, Mida following close behind. Up close, I could see something dark on his _maawis_ , probably blood. Mida gasped. “Osman, we need to get you to a doctor.” I spoke calmly. Osman was probably in shock from his injuries, and didn’t need any further excitement. His words were somewhat distressing, given his physical state, but his health was a more immediate concern.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The next day, and the days that followed, were unexpectedly strained. I reported in to work as usual, to find that Fuhrer Mustang was unable to look at me. The others, while they had returned to Central, with the exception of Lt. Falman, no longer worked as closely with the fuhrer as they had in Ishval. The new position required a different sort of work, and therefore, a different skill set in its subordinates. We all ate together, in the private dining room of the fuhrer, but no one seemed to notice the tension that was growing between him and me. I shrugged it off as best I could, examining my appearance in the mirror. My hair was beginning to get a little shaggy, and my bangs were tickling my eyebrows. I’d need a haircut soon.

A few days later, I walked into my usual salon. I hadn’t been there since we’d left for Ishval, and the hairdressers greeted me warmly with shouts as I entered. I went to sit in the waiting area, and froze. This place was suddenly becoming a little too nostalgic.

Mrs. Bradley waved at me. “Hello, Lt. Col. Hawkeye. It’s good to see you again.” I smiled awkwardly. I would have returned the sentiment if it weren’t for the person sitting next to her. Seeing my reaction, Mrs. Bradley sighed knowingly. “Selim, dear, this is Lt. Col. Riza Hawkeye. She used to work for your father.” Selim looked at me with big, sincere eyes. To me, Mrs. Bradley said, “It’s all right, you know. He hasn’t shown any signs.”

I had known, of course, that Mrs. Bradley was raising the homunculus as her son. When Fuhrer Grumman had mentioned it to Mustang, I thought he’d fall out of his chair. Admittedly, I had been adamantly opposed to this. But looking at the boy now, I couldn’t sense any of the animosity I had previously felt coming from him.

I smiled weakly. “It’s nice to meet you, Selim.” The boy said nothing, leaning into his mother’s arm.

“He’s a little shy of strangers. Why don’t you sit down?” I sat down on the other side of her. I could see no reason to feel anything negative toward the child, but I was not about to sit next to him. I still remembered the constant fear he had instilled in me. Living like that for as long as I did was torturous. I came so close to breaking down so many times because of him.

“How have you two been doing?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light. Mrs. Bradley, being the astute woman she was, no doubt picked up on my apprehension.

“We’ve been fine. Selim is about to start school, and he’s very excited about it. I’ve been keeping busy, between him and my book.”

“Your book?”

“Yes. I’m writing about what it was like as the fuhrer’s wife. My editor seems very interested in a different perspective of my husband and the military. Of course, some things will have to be left out.” She pet Selim’s hair, who was still clinging to her side. A few moments later, she and Selim were called back.

We had never gotten a straight answer out of her, whether or not she knew about her husband’s true identity. We’d never told her, trying to prompt her to say something with directed questions, but she rarely gave a straight answer. I don’t know if that was for Selim’s sake, or if she remained loyal to her husband no matter what. I admired her greatly. She was stronger than any other woman I’d ever met, but her compassion exceeded her strength. She was the one good part about my former position under Fuhrer Bradley. I’ll never forget the look in her eyes when we used her a hostage. She looked at me often, with disbelief and grief. That was one of the most difficult things that happened during that time, possibly more difficult than being nearly killed to get to my commanding officer. I hadn’t had the chance to talk with her since then, and I’d been secretly worried about her opinion of me. It wasn’t until I’d lost her good opinion that I realized how much I wanted her approval. And here she was, after all of that, smiling and talking pleasantly with me. Even if it was marred by the presence of Selim, I felt relieved.

“We’re ready for you.” I looked up at the friendly woman with an apron. I twirled the end of a lock of my hair around my fingers for the last time. I was ready for a change.

* * *

**Kaliq**

Dr. Kohl straightened after putting the final bandage on Osman’s shoulders. “He’ll be fine. Don’t bother him for too long, though.” The short man walked out, leaving me, Col. Miles, and Osman’s sister. She sat in a chair next to the bed, hands clasped in her lap. Miles removed his glasses to speak with him.

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

Osman grimaced. He’d never gotten along with Miles, always called him a blood traitor for joining the military. “I was going to get a tarp for the house that caved in Wahir, after the workday was over. I passed by one of the other worksites, and I saw several Amestrians in one of the old storage houses. I listened in on them, and they were talking about wetting the stockpile of grain in the main warehouse and replacing some of the scaffolding with straw. One of them was an alchemist, and he showed how he could make straw look like a stronger wood, like what we use in the scaffolding. But it snapped like straw. Then, one of them saw me. I had no choice but to defend myself! They started slashing at me with their knives, which is how I got the cut on my shoulder. But I managed to get one of them pretty good.” Osman grinned darkly. “I got his knife away from him and cut pretty deep into his stomach.” My eyes widened. A stomach wound was serious, and almost certainly fatal.

Osman had clearly paused for effect, and Miles prodded him, “Go on.”

“The alchemist they had with them did some fancy stuff and broke my leg. The other guys ran off, and the alchemist covered their tracks. I guess they thought that in between my shoulder and my leg, I wouldn’t be bothering them again. Of course, I did give them that impression.”

“How many of them were there?” Miles pulled out a little notebook from his pocket.

Four, including the guy I hurt and the alchemist.”

My eyebrows furrowed. “That’s not many.”

Osman shook his head. “But the alchemist was talking like he had orders from someone else.”

“The man you injured, did they take him with them?” Osman nodded. “What did they look like?”

“I don’t know, Amestrian! It’s hard to tell them apart!”

I crossed my arms. “Try.”

Osman threw me a glare as he said, “One of them was wearing a military uniform. He was blond. The alchemist had glasses and a shaggy beard. The other two had dark hair.”

“Can you remember anything about their sizes? Particularly the soldier?”

“They were normal sized? It’s hard to tell when they’re slashing at you with knives.” After a moment, he added, “I think one of them might have been a woman with short hair, the one I didn’t hurt.” Osman’s patience was growing thin, as was mine. Miles seemed unfazed, though, as always.

“All right, Osman, we’re done for now. But I’ll be back tomorrow with more questions. Keep trying to remember what they looked like.” Miles waved for me to follow him out.

I asked, “So, do you think it’s simple vandalism?”

Miles stared straight ahead. “Organized vandalism against the state is terrorism.”

* * *

**Hawkeye**

Col. Miles’ report was truly upsetting. While the people behind it had done nothing more than create a few setbacks, now they would meet resistance. They could escalate their attacks into something much more dangerous. Fuhrer Mustang, after receiving the report, asked everyone to clear the room for a few minutes. I waited patiently outside the door as he cursed and flipped something over - hopefully just a chair.

On the way home, I stopped by the grocer for a few things, and I ran into an old friend. A tall, blond, young man was standing in the cooler aisle, a slight smile on his face.

“Alphonse, long time, no see.”

The man turned, smile widening. “Lt. Col. Hawkeye! Great to see you again. Your hair looks nice.”

“Thank you. I had it cut just a few days ago. How was Xing?” I asked. Alphonse had passed through Ishval on his way to the eastern country, and his excitement then was written all over his new body.

“Xing was … educational.” Alphonse ducked his head, like his brother did when he was embarrassed, and I could have sworn his cheeks were a few shades redder.

I raised one eyebrow. “Did you find Mei?” I remembered how the small girl had thrown herself at him when he and Ed returned from the gate. The two were well suited for each other, in my opinion.

Alphonse’s smile migrated to the side of his face. “Yeah. I learned a lot about alkahestry from her. But I came back when I got the news from brother.”

“What news?”

His eyes widened a bit. “You haven’t heard yet? Winry’s pregnant!”

My mouth dropped open slightly. I remembered their wedding, two years ago, and Winry mentioned she wanted to start a family, but to hear it was actually happening was something entirely different. “That’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. Ed’s really nervous about it, though. I think Winry’s going to strangle him by the time it’s all over.” He laughed slightly, although he did seem somewhat genuinely concerned for his brother’s safety.

“I can just imagine.” Little Winry, a mother. Thinking about how much the two of them had grown up, I knew they would make good parents.

“So, Lt. Col. Hawkeye, how is being the fuhrer’s aide?”

I shrugged. “It’s much the same work that I’ve always done. Perhaps a bit more stressful, but all in all, the work is worthwhile.” No need to mention Ishval to Al. Not when he had such happy news.

He nodded. “I can’t believe how much has changed. Ed and Winry, married. Mustang’s the fuhrer, Ling, emperor, and -” He cut off abruptly and blushed again.

“What is it, Al?” I asked. I had always tried to be there for the boys, in what ways I could. They had been thrust into the life of the military much too young, and I felt they needed someone to lean on.

“N-nothing. It’s just that something happened in Xing that I’m not supposed to tell people about yet.” Alphonse suddenly became very interested in the yogurt on the shelves, and I knew to drop it. We said our goodbyes, and I picked up what I needed.


	11. Singed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains descriptions of serious injuries and character death.

**September 1919**

**Kaliq**

I sat outside the infirmary, hunched over, trying to remember how this happened. It was my fault, that much was obvious. But how could I let something like this happen, of all people, to _her_?

That morning, I’d set out to work, like any other. I let Toby outside, to run around to his heart’s content. I knew he’d come back in when I came home, but there was no point in keeping him cooped up in my house all day. Cemal waved at me as we headed separate ways; him to the main temple in Kanda, me to the residential district of Lejia. I passed Mida’s house, subtly glancing over to see her leaving to go to the gathering house. She saw me looking and smiled. My muscles tensed up and I tried to raise my hand in greeting, but somehow managed to drop the bag I was carrying.

She laughed a little and came over to help me. “Good morning, Kaliq.” I acknowledged her with a nod, unable to say anything. I was too humiliated, as evidenced by the sudden warmth in my cheeks. Kneeling down, I retrieved my bag and began collecting my tools. She knelt down beside me. “Here. You hold the bag open and I’ll put the tools in.” I followed her orders, watching the back of her head as she moved. Her soft - I assumed it was soft - hair was in a neat braid, today, and she usually wore it down. I closed my eyes briefly, pondering over why I noticed that.

With all the tools back in the bag, we stood up. I could see Suraya walking toward us, no doubt coming to walk with Mida. “Thank you.” I said, smiling slightly at her. Mida seemed surprised, and her smile was so much wider than mine. _Ishvalla, help me understand your ways,_  I prayed as I watched them walk away. Mida, with her gentle eyes, her genuine smiles, her strong and tender hands - she was truly a gift from Ishvalla.

At the work site, Vedran and Yasef were waiting for me. Most of the day passed by with no major issues. We checked the whole site thoroughly, making sure all the scaffolding was secure, the materials were durable, and the tools were all accounted for. After Osman’s discovery, we weren’t taking any chances. It was shortly after our meal break when we heard a far-off thud and Vedran shouted. Looking back in the direction of the sound, we could see smoke rising from the center of Kanda.

My heart stopped and the whole crew dropped what they were doing. Two of the other workers lived there, and they had families who stayed behind. Vedran charged ahead of us, calling out for his aunts. A round face with a neat braid flashed in front of me, and I almost tripped. After several minutes, we could hear screaming, orders being shouted over the sound of burning, collapsing buildings. Vedran and Yasef cried out in joy when they ran to Agniya, who stooped down to embrace them. Tears stained her cheeks as she held onto them tightly. Too tightly.

An Amestrian soldier was helping a man slightly older than me limp away. I stepped beside him. “What happened?”

His terrified eyes met mine, and I realized just how young this soldier was. This was probably his first post. “A-a man, he walked into the gathering house, and it just … blew up.”

The gathering house. That’s where Suraya and … _Ishvalla, please no._ I turned back to watch Agniya as she clung to the boys. I approached them, resting my hand lightly on her shoulder. She looked up to me and loosened her arms. The boys stumbled back a bit, bumping into me. They didn’t seem to understand why their aunt had hugged them like that.

“Agniya, were they still inside?” Agniya’s eyes lowered. That wasn’t good enough. “Please, you have to tell me. We can still find them. _Were they inside?_ ” She nodded, and my whole body suddenly felt heavier than it ever had, even when I felt the weight of the deaths I had caused.

I looked at the gathering house, or what was left of it, and desperation consumed me. The flames around that building, I had only seen flames that destructive during the war, and I knew there was no getting anyone else out. But somehow, I had to. I took off my sash and put it in Vedran’s hands. No need to have loose fabric in a burning building. I hurried to the building, trying to steel myself against the heat as I drew near. I had reached the door, which had collapsed in a pile on the ground, when I heard her.

“Stop! STOP!” Her voice was raspy, followed by intense hacking, but I turned to find her. She was lying on the ground, on her side, under a fallen beam, which had split in two over her body. Her _direh_ was singed badly, and blistering, red skin was visible in the places the clothing had fallen away. She was lying on her side, and one of her arms seemed to be twisted painfully underneath her.

Rushing to her, I called out to a soldier nearby. Together, we lifted the wood, not much more than ash now, and freed her body. As the weight left her, she cried out again. Where the beam once had been, her body was crushed. I couldn’t do anything but stare. I’d seen much worse than this, but it was _her_ , the kindest person I’d ever met.

“Kaliq,” she choked out, forcing my eyes away from her injuries to her face. Her eyes were filled with warmth, despite her current state. I knew what she wanted to say. She didn’t want me to despair over her. She was trying to comfort someone else while she was suffering so much.

Luckily, the soldier was in more control than I was. He called for a doctor, and Mida was soon carried away on a stretcher. I went to follow her, but stopped. What right did I have to be with her now? I wasn’t her family, and even if she did call me her friend, so many others were closer to her than me. I stopped, watching her, and prayed. _Please, Ishvalla, please. Protect your daughter, Mida, and ease her suffering._ I turned back to the scene, knowing that I could be of more use here.

Eventually, we did find Suraya, but she was even worse than Mida. A chunk of her leg was missing, and her left arm was withered from burns. Her hair, which had always been pulled back into a tight ponytail, was smoldering, and she had a large gash on the side of her head. She had survived, but there was no telling how long she would last with her injuries. Agniya ran over to her, as she was placed on a stretcher, wailing. I held her as she cried, reaching out to her wife. When Suraya was carried off, I took Agniya by the shoulders.

“They’re taking her to the infirmary. They’ll help her there. She needs you to stay calm and think clearly.” I stared firmly at Agniya, speaking calmly but intensely. She seemed scared of me, at first, but nodded.

“Can you take care of them?” she asked, barely above a whisper, turning her head slightly behind her, to where the boys were standing, holding onto each other.

“Yes. Go with Suraya.” I dropped my hands and let Agniya follow her wife. She seemed less frantic now, and stopped in front of Vedran and Yasef.

“I’m going with Aunt Suraya. Kaliq will stay with you, okay?” I was surprised to see that she managed a smile.

Vedran nodded, his eyes wide, and Yasef clung to his brother’s arm like he was afraid he would get hurt, as well. I put my hand on Yasef’s shoulder and knelt down in front of them. “Let’s go back to my house, for now.” Agniya thanked me with a smile and a nod and walked quickly toward the army headquarters. I placed my hand on Vedran’s shoulder as we left the scene. Obviously, the older boy was in shock, unable to process what had just happened. He didn’t even seem to notice the pull from his brother’s hand.

We waited in my house for several hours, and Cemal came by. He brought a _jar_ board with him, which sufficiently distracted the boys. I watched them play, wondering why we hadn’t heard from the infirmary yet. When Kammani came, her face grave, I knew. I went outside with her, not wanting the boys to hear it just yet.

“Suraya passed. She’s with Ishvalla now.” The older woman bowed her head, whispering, “ _Ramat Ishvalla Aliyaq_.” For a moment, we were silent, in reverence to the dead.

Kammani was the first to break the silence. “If you wish to visit them, I can stay with the boys until Agniya comes for them.” She smiled sadly.

I thanked her, and explained to my other visitors that I was leaving for an hour or two, and that Kammani would take care of them. Cemal stayed as well, continuing his game. I tried to keep a steady pace as I headed for the infirmary, but my emotions betrayed me as my feet hastened. The smell of smoke filled the air, even though the fire had been put out some time ago. I doubt that smell would dissipate anytime soon.

In the infirmary, many people crowded the main waiting room, desperate to hear news of their loved ones. Some were sitting, some were crying, but all were strangely quiet. Several soldiers were stationed around the room, with clipboards in their hands. The one who had helped me with Mida was there, and I approached him. He told me where Suraya was, and where Mida was. My first duty was to find Agniya, and I did. She was sitting in a chair next to Suraya’s bed, and her head rested on the mattress. Her eyes were open, staring at Suraya’s hand, which was clasped between her own. No one wanted to disturb them. I decided to go to Mida’s room, which was just a few doors down. She was sharing the room with four others, none of whom were as badly injured. Her eyes were closed, and for a moment, I was so afraid. But then, as I moved closer to her, her eyes opened, and she smiled. It was then, and only then, that I felt something wet on my face.

She lifted her head slightly, her smile turning into slight, gentle frown, and looked to the chair next to her, silently asking me to sit. I did, and she moved her arm, the one not in a sling, so that I would reach up and take it. “It’s all right, Kaliq,” she murmured, her smile marred by occasional twitches that gave away her pain. Why was she doing this? Why was she reaching out to me when she was the one who was hurting? I bowed my head, ashamed that she felt like she needed to comfort me.

I cleared my eyes and looked back at her, knowing that I couldn’t let her feel any obligation to help me. “How are you?”

She sighed, which turned into a short cough. Her face contorted in pain, and I leaned in, ready to act if necessary. But it passed, and she looked back at me. “My arm and legs are broken, and my spine is bruised pretty badly. They set my legs, but haven’t had time for my arm, yet.” She looked particularly troubled, and opened her mouth, only to close it again.

“What is it?” I asked, worried that she had not told the doctors about something, because she didn’t want to trouble them.

She looked down. “Did they find Suraya?”

She was terrified, it showed all over her face. “Yes.” I didn’t know if I should tell her.

“Is she - how is she?”

I hesitated, just long enough for her eyes to widen and tears to form. “When they found her, she was badly hurt. I haven’t been to see her, yet.”

She nodded slowly. “Can you check on her for me?” Part of me thought she had figured it out, but I couldn’t say anything to her. I nodded and stood up.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She smiled and dropped my hand. “Thank you, Kaliq, for everything.”

* * *

**Hawkeye**

When Lt. Fuery walked into my office, personally, I knew something was up. His hands were shaking as he handed me a slip of paper. It was a telegram, marked urgent, for the fuhrer. It read, EXPLOSION IN KANDA -(STOP)- UNKNOWN CASUALTIES -(STOP)- POSSIBLE TERRORIST CELL INVOLVED -(STOP)- REQUESTING IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE -(STOP)- FROM THE OFFICE OF COLONEL MILES -(STOP)-

I thanked Fuery for his prompt and personal delivery, and knocked on the fuhrer’s door. When he responded, I walked in, Fuery behind me. “Sir, there’s a message for you from Col. Miles. It’s urgent.”

His expression immediately sharpened and he frowned. “Come in and close the door.” Fuery closed the wooden doors and we both approached his desk. I handed him the paper, and he looked as though he’d been slugged in the gut. Quietly, but vehemently, he asked, “Why the hell didn’t he call?” He snapped his attention back to us. “Lt. colonel, clear my schedule for the rest of the day. We need to deal with this as soon as possible. Fuery, try to get in touch with the headquarters in Ishval. I don’t care if you have to talk to a cadet, get me details.”

“Sir!” We both briskly saluted him and promptly left the room. My heart was pounding with a sense of responsibility. It was vital that we responded to this promptly, as this not only struck a little too close to home, but it was Fuhrer Mustang’s first major challenge.

Looking at his calendar, determining who I needed to contact, I couldn’t help but notice the hearing in parliament tomorrow. He couldn’t afford to postpone that. But he couldn’t put off the situation in Ishval. I knew he was probably cursing himself for not acting sooner, when we’d gotten the first report from Miles last week. But then, it had just been some minor stumbling blocks, not this.

Fuery returned within the hour, looking even more frightened than he had. My heart sank when I saw his face. Again, I knocked on the office door and he called us in.

“What’ve you got, Fuery?” he asked as soon as we walked in. I closed the doors behind me, wary of someone listening in. If this was terrorism, we needed to tighten up security.

Fuery saluted, and spoke with more stability than his face exhibited. “I spoke with a Sgt. Akkerman, who said that the gathering house in Kanda had exploded. They have yet to find a cause, and so far, thirty-seven casualties have been reported. They have confirmed four deaths, but they expect to find more bodies as they continue to search the site.”

“The gathering house. That was where they held school, right?” The fuhrer turned to me for a response.

“Yes, sir. They had begun lessons a little less than two years ago.” I reported the facts, but I wasn’t able to get the faces of the children I had met out of my head. He must have felt the same way, as he rested his head in his hands.

“Get me Havoc,” he said, through gritted teeth. I saluted and left the room. Fuery stayed behind, waiting for his next orders.

At my desk, I picked up the in-office phone and dialed the extension for the Logistics Innovation Agency. The receptionist put me through to Captain Havoc, and he answered with his usual, laidback tone.

“Hey, Hawkeye.”

“Havoc, there’s a situation which requires your immediate attention. Come to the fuhrer’s office as soon as you can.”

“Geez, what’s going on?” I could almost see him straightening up in his chair.

“I can’t tell you right now. Just get up here.”

“Okay. I’m on my way.” He hung up, and I set the phone down with a sigh. How had we let this tragedy happen? We had just left Ishval, and now, - I closed my eyes for a moment, my mind racing over all the possibilities, and all that we had to do. Someone knocked on the door, and then Havoc’s face popped around the corner.

I smiled wearily at him. “He’s waiting for you.” He nodded and walked into the office. After a minute, I heard the fuhrer call me.

“Yes, sir?” I asked, standing in the doorway.

“I want you in on this, as well. Havoc will be heading a task force to investigate the recent incidents in Ishval, particularly the destruction of the Kanda gathering house. We are going to work with him to select the other members of this team, and I want them on an express train tomorrow morning. Can you arrange that?” His eyes were angry, but in a way that reassured me.

“Of course, sir. How many people will the team consist of?”

He looked to Havoc. The two of them seemed to be conferring in their own heads before Havoc spoke up. “Eight, other than myself. The forces in Ishval will fill in as needed.”

Fuhrer Mustang nodded. “Lt. Fuery?”

“Yes, sir?” The younger man asked.

“I want you to personally control the information about this. Any information about this must be contained and distributed carefully. We don’t want anything sensitive leaked to the public. You’re dismissed.” Fuery saluted and left promptly. “Capt. Havoc, work with Lt. Col. Hawkeye to get a list of soldiers suitable for the job. Lt. colonel, make sure they have no previous connections to Ishval. We need fresh eyes.”

“Sir!” We left him scribbling notes to himself, no doubt trying to put pieces together from his memories of Ishval and whatever other information Fuery had given him. Havoc and I spent several hours poring over personnel records, trying to determine the soldiers best suited for investigation, and then crossing out anyone who’d ever served in Ishval. Once we had a list of people, I called the train station, to arrange for a special train to Ishval, using the route reserved for military transport. Havoc contacted the soldiers we’d selected, pulling more than one off of an ongoing case.

My mind drifted back to the parliament hearing. Tomorrow was the day we started putting our plans into action. I wondered what he would do. His office door opened and he walked out. His mouth was set in a grimace, and his eyes were dull with anger and guilt. I could tell he was struggling to remain in Central, instead of rushing to Ishval to help.

“Lt. Col. Hawkeye,  I need to speak with you about the rest of this week.” I stood up from my desk and followed him back into his office, leaving Havoc in mine.

Once I had closed the doors, his shoulders slumped. I was a little surprised, considering how strained things had been between us for the past few weeks. But then, the children’s faces came into my head again, and my breath caught.

Without turning to face me, he said, “I hate this, but I need to go through with the hearing tomorrow.” I said nothing, in silent agreement. He growled slightly. “I never thought being fuhrer would make me so weak! I can’t do anything for Ishval!”

I looked down at the insignia on the carpet, the seal of Amestris. “Sir, you are helping Ishval. You’re sending Havoc down there to help. You’re promoting their case here. And you’ve already done so much for them.”

“But I’m stuck here, dammit!” He swung his fist against the wall with a resounding thud. I stepped toward him, knowing he needed to grieve. As I opened my mouth, not sure exactly what I was going to say, he turned around. His eyes were red, and his cheeks were wet. I was shocked into silence. I’d only seen him cry twice before, the first time in Ishval, when he granted my wish, and the second time when Hughes was murdered. He closed his eyes. “I hate being useless.”

I placed my hand on his arm. “You aren’t useless, sir. Not to me.” I smiled at him, trying to help him understand just how much he’d done for his country.

He returned my smile, in an attempt to reassure me that he was all right. I dropped my hand as he took a deep breath to steady himself. “Thank you.” He straightened his jacket and walked back to his desk. “Now, we need to prepare for the hearing tomorrow, if you don’t mind staying overtime.”

“Of course not, sir.” I answered, sitting in a chair across from him. If he was going to propose the dismantling of the state alchemist program, we needed to be absolutely focused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The game Cemal brought to Kaliq's house is Shax, which is a game found in various Middle Eastern countries. The phrase "Ramat Ishvalla Aliyaq" is based on the Arabic equivalent of "Rest in Peace".


	12. Pyre

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dedicated to Grace S., who passed away on May 7th

**September 1919**

**Kaliq**

_Meramet ve anlasha tam Ishvalla_

_Qardas, Suraya, abahdi ishkrat vermeq_

_Bisha vu karaniq sharmaq ushun bisha_

_Ishiq ber ve bizh sul taf bilerhenez_

_  
_My master spoke the prayers over Suraya’s body as she lay on the altar, covered with a white cloth. Her body had been washed by Agniya and one of Suraya’s relatives, and she had been anointed with _adar_. Her younger brother and I dug her grave near where the victims of the war had been buried. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen. He was probably accustomed to burying his siblings, or so his expression read. Neither of us spoke as we completed our task, and we helped Agniya place her body in the ground.

Agniya had not spoken a word since Suraya was pronounced dead, as was our custom. She cried silently during the prayers and the burial. I had yet to see Vedran react to his aunt’s passing, which worried me a little.Yasef had cried several times, and I had to take him aside to explain to him that it was disrespectful to the dead to let them hear you being upset.

Suraya wasn't the only one killed in the explosion. The sight of many families gathering around, mourning the brutal, sudden loss, brought back many memories, not just for me. I could see the haunted look in many people's eyes during the processions. I could also see the anger, which possibly chilled me more than the attack itself. At the moment, there was only one target for that anger, as we didn't know who was responsible for the attack: the military.

Osman, who was now on crutches, and whose cousin had been injured in the explosion, somehow managed to find the Ishvallans who felt the military's lack of action had led to this. Some of the soldiers had attended the funerals, as they had grown close to the people here. At the end of the last funeral, Osman began beating one of them with his crutch.

“You filthy, self-righteous, fucking dick! This was your fault!” The soldier struggled to grasp the crutch, and the others around didn't know what to do. This was an Ishvallan funeral. If they acted with force to an Ishvallan during this, which so closely resembled earlier times, what would happen? I moved to stop him, but Cemal got there first.

His face was hard and his eyes sharp as he grasped the crutch firmly. “Stop this, Osman. You are disgracing those who have passed.” Though Cemal was shorter by several inches, Osman cowed under his glare. But he wasn't done.

“Cemal, how can you defend this Amestrian? It's his people that are doing this to us! His people are the reason we're having these funerals!”

Cemal didn't move or loosen his grip. “That may be, but it wasn't him.” He pushed the crutch away, causing Osman to stumble. “The next time I see you using that crutch for anything other than walking, I will make sure you are confined to a hospital bed.” Cemal’s back was turned to me, so that I couldn’t see his expression, but Osman’s eyes widened and he tucked his chin under. All of his anger was replaced by fear.

I turned back to the infirmary, where several more tents had been set up to make room for all of the patients. Mida hadn’t been able to come to Suraya’s burial, but she had been present for the anointing ceremony. She had a similar expression to Vedran, one that had seen so many, too many, loved ones die. Before the ceremony, when she was brought into Suraya’s room, all of her attention had been on Agniya, reaching out to her, letting her rest her head on her lap, stroking her hair. Agniya had fallen asleep like that, sitting on the floor, leaning on Mida’s legs. The doctors had wanted to move her, to keep the pressure off of Mida’s injuries, but Mida’s look, stubborn and lifeless, kept them back. Kammani had brought the boys in the morning, after telling them. Yasef came in blubbering, which woke Agniya. She quieted the boy, holding him tightly as they both rested on the floor. Yasef brought me back to the current moment as he pulled on my _maawis_.

“Kaliq, I’m hungry.” His eyes were red. I held out my hand to him, and he took it. Agniya would hold vigil over Suraya’s grave for the rest of the day, in fast, and Kammani was with another family, comforting them. Vedran was looking around at the others, watching them cry.

“Vedran, let’s go back to my home.” I called. He nodded without looking at me, and then turned to follow us.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The hearing wasn’t going well. The agenda had been leaked, and several state alchemists were present for the debate. We’d already been there for three hours, and all that we’d managed to do so far was read the proposed bill.

“We provide many forms of support, not just military!” A middle-aged woman waved her arms toward a younger woman sitting in the back. “I’m a doctor! I used alchemy to save this woman’s life last month, and that wouldn’t have been possible without the resources that are only available to state alchemists!” She was the Stitching Alchemist, Clarice Wetzel, known for her delicate and nimble transmutations. She’d never been on the front lines of any war, and was only called up by the military once, during one of the bloodiest battles of the conflict with Aerugo, and then, she was one of the doctors, nothing more.

The Fuhrer stood up, bringing everyone’s attention to him. “Mrs. Wetzel, no one is denying that the resources that come with being a state alchemist are necessary for the furthering of alchemy. However, we are debating whether or not to keep alchemists as a part of the military, which you have not been called to do, other than your medical assistance several years ago. I propose a slight expansion to the bill.” I froze. We hadn’t talked about anything like this, being too preoccupied with Ishval. I trusted him to the ends of the earth, of course, but he could ruin everything if he wasn’t careful. “What if we built a government-funded university, which would have all of the resources previously available to state alchemists? It would be purely for research, and the military would have very little, if any, control over its members.”

One of the members of parliament stood up. “Fuhrer Mustang, sir, that is preposterous! The funding for that is beyond our current capacity, considering the colossal reconstruction projects all around the country!”

“With all due respect, Rep. Britten, we do have the funds available for this project, or to at least start it.” He looked down to me, and I passed him the budget reports. “If we dissolve the institution of state alchemy, we could reallocate the funding going toward rebuilding three of the laboratories and the national library to the university, as well as a significant part of the stipends going to the current state alchemists. And I believe we’d be able to find several donors for the project.” He had that confident smile on his face, a little bold for someone who just spouted a half-assed idea in Parliament. “What do you think about this, Mrs. Wetzel?”

The woman looked flustered, not quite sure what to say. “All of the study materials currently available to state alchemists would be at the university?”

The Fuhrer nodded. “All of them.”

She frowned, not liking the fact that she now had to agree with the government. “Then I have no objections to this.” She returned to her seat as many of the parliament whispered to each other.

“Speaker Duval,” the Fuhrer said, loudly and confidently, “I motion to adjourn for lunch.”

Josef Duval called out, “Fuhrer Mustang has motioned to adjourn. Is there a second?”

Someone called out from the floor. “Second!”

“Then we will adjourn and return in one hour to continue this discussion.” He brought the gavel down and everyone began to stand up to leave.

I straightened the many papers in my hands. “That was reckless, sir.”

He shrugged at me, grinning sheepishly. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, but I wasn’t sure about it. I just decided to go for it and see what happened.”

I sighed. He’d certainly get the support of the state alchemists, now that they would no longer have to worry about losing their research materials. Being raised by an alchemist, I understood that those mattered more to them than any amount of money.

“Let’s try to get in touch with Havoc, see what progress they’ve made.” I followed him out of the hall, both of us walking at a very determined pace.

“Yes, sir.”

* * *

**Kaliq**

I left Yasef and Vedran in Cemal’s care again as I went back to the infirmary. Miles was waiting for me, with Capt. Havoc. The blond man lacked his usual laidback attitude.

“Hey, Kaliq.” He said when I was close enough.

“Havoc. Miles.” I nodded to them. I wondered what Havoc was doing back here, so soon after Mustang returned to Central.

Miles crossed his arms. “You’re friends with the women who were inside the building, right?” I nodded.

Havoc spoke. “We need to talk to them, to put together a timeline. Can you introduce us?”

I frowned. I didn’t want to put Mida through anything else today, not after burying her younger cousin. “One of them passed away. She was buried this morning.”

Surprise flashed across Havoc’s face. “I’m sorry to hear that, really.”

When I didn’t say anything else, Miles cleared his throat. “What about the other one? Is she well enough to talk to us?”

I hesitated, trying to figure out a way to say no. She was well enough, this morning, but I didn’t know how she was doing mentally. Havoc must have guessed what I was thinking. “We can come back later, maybe after dinner, but we do need to talk to her. Can you see how she’s doing?” Miles shot him an impatient look, obviously wanting this to move along as quickly as possible. I was all for that, but I didn’t want to hurt her. I nodded, and they said they’d be back later. As they walked off, I could hear Miles speaking vehemently under his breath to his subordinate.

In Mida’s room, there were several other visitors for the other patients, and the room was filled with murmurs and movement. She was alone, and smiled at me when I entered. I smiled back and sat in the folding chair next to the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, I think. I can move the toes on my right foot, which the doctors say is a good sign. Marcoh was in here to see me, a few minutes ago.”

“He was?” I knew he had been helping the doctors recently, and I’d seen him around.

She nodded. “He was very sweet, and helped with my spine. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

I smiled. “That’s great news.”

She smiled, and looked down. “Have they made any headway with the investigation?”

My smile faded. “Not much. They think an alchemist started the fire, but they haven’t been able to figure out who.”

She leveled her eyes at me, something heavy resting behind them. “I can help. I saw someone, in the gathering house. An Amestrian I’d never seen before.” One of the other visitors had turned to look at us, distracted by the change in Mida’s tone.

I took her hand. “Maybe you should wait to tell Miles about this, in a more secure room.” Her sudden determination faltered, and she drew her hand back.

Nodding, she answered. “I want to talk to them soon.” I felt guilty for turning them away, then. Of course they were right; getting information as soon as possible was of the utmost importance.

I stood up. “I’ll go find them.” Mida smiled at me as I left, filling me with the warmth of her friendship. I hurried out of the infirmary and back into the streets. Following the roads to the gathering house, I found them kneeling down next to what used to be the door. They were talking about something on the remnants of the frame.

“Miles!” I shouted. Both of them looked up at me, startled. Miles stood up, brushing his hands on his uniform, adjusting his sunglasses as he approached me.

“What is it?”

“The woman at the scene, Mida Nezhem, she wants to talk to you.” Miles nodded and waved Havoc over. I led them back to the infirmary, into Mida’s room. The other people turned to stare.

Mida smiled and nodded to us. “Col. Miles, I have some information for you.”

Miles smiled back. “That’s what Kaliq told us. This is Capt. Havoc, the leader of an investigation team from Central. Why don’t we take this somewhere more private?” He gestured to a nurse, who came immediately. It was somewhat disconcerting how much a uniform could do. Within minutes, Mida was in a wheelchair, being escorted down the hall to a conference room. She had insisted that I be there, and took my hand, which she hadn’t released since. Havoc had raised his eyebrows at me, but I ignored him. She wanted someone familiar with her, that was all.

Once we’d been resettled, Miles took out his notebook. “Start from the very beginning, when you left your house yesterday morning.” It was hard to believe it was just yesterday.

Mida closed her eyes, visualizing it. “I spoke to Kaliq, and then Suraya came to walk with me to the gathering house, like she does - did - every morning.” Mida opened her eyes, a bit shocked at the change in tense. I squeezed her hand in mine, in support. “We went by our regular route, cutting through the narrow pass between the Kafni’s shop and the Dayan’s home, and we saw several children entering the gathering house, as usual. We went in, and went to our separate rooms. I was with the younger children, near the front of the building.”

“You teach the younger ones?” Havoc interrupted.

She nodded. “I teach them the very basics. There's a lot of singing involved, and drawing. It's more like babysitting than teaching. Suraya had the older kids, and they would learn the more complicated things, those that showed up. Most of the older kids don't come to the lessons, actually. There are about five regulars, and others come on occasion.”

“How many children were there yesterday?”

Mida thought. “In my room, there were four. It was early, and some of them come later, as their guardians start their days. I don't know exactly how many were with Suraya.”

“And you two were the only adults?”

“Yesterday, no. There was one other, a boy, about fourteen. He has several younger siblings, and he helps out on occasion.”

“Was he with you?”

“Yes. His name is Erol Ziv.”

“So you, Erol, and four children were in the room. Suraya was in the other room. What happened next?”

Mida looked down, her eyes far away. “I was setting up for the day, letting the children play with a few things. Erol was watching them. I remember hearing the door open, but I thought it was another child. Erol stood, which made me look up. There was an Amestrian man in the hallway, looking around. I thought he might have been a volunteer, but Erol seemed scared. I went to talk to him.”

“What did he look like?”

Mida brought her hand to her face. “He was fairly tall, for an Amestrian, maybe a little taller than you.” She looked at Havoc. “He had darker hair, and a fairly large nose. He had a laborer's hands.”

“Was he in a uniform?” Miles asked.

Mida shook her head. “He was wearing a simple white shirt and brown pants.” She opened her mouth to continue but stopped.

Havoc leaned forward. “Any detail you can remember would be helpful, even if you aren't sure.”

Mida looked at him. “I think he had a tattoo, on the inside of his hand. I couldn't tell what it was, some sort of symbol. But there was something dark on his skin, there.”

“A transmutation circle?”

“No. It wasn't a circle. At least, it didn't look like one. I didn't really get close enough to see it.”

Miles jotted it down in his notebook. “Then what?”

“He turned toward me and smiled. Then, Erol yelled from behind me, saying something about his back. I couldn't see it from where I was, but the man suddenly got very angry at Erol. He yelled back at him, something about protecting Amestris from dirty Ishvallans.” Havoc sucked in, but I had heard many worse things than that. Mida acknowledged Havoc's reaction with a slight nod, but kept going. “He reached behind him, and I turned back to the children. Erol was trying to get them out of the building through one of the windows. I could hear people moving around in Suraya's room as well. Then, Suraya came down the hall, yelling at the man to get out. I think she recognized him, she and Erol, both.”

“So he's been in Ishval before?” Miles asked.

Mida shook her head. “If he has, I've never seen him. I went back into the room, trying to stop Erol from basically shoving the children out the window, and that's when the building exploded. I didn't see what happened.”

Havoc leaned forward. “The man was still in the building?”

Mida's head shot up a little straighter. “Probably. There wasn't enough time for him to get out.”

Miles and Havoc looked at each other, and Miles put his notebook back in his pocket. “Thank you, Mida. We’ll be back to talk to you later, but we need to get back to the scene.” They both stood up from their seats, and Miles turned to me. “I know I don’t need to tell you this, but don’t tell anyone else about this. And if you could try to find Erol for us, I would appreciate it.” I nodded, and they both left the room. Mida breathed out loudly into the much less-charged room.

I placed my other hand on top of our clasped hands. “Are you all right?”

She nodded wearily. “I’m fine. I just can’t get the image of Erol out of my head.”

I didn’t like where this was going. “Did you see what happened to him?”

“Not exactly. He was closer to the wall than I was, and I think he may have gotten out of the window before it happened. He just seemed so scared of that man.”

I put my hand on Mida’s good arm, and she met my eyes. I could see concern, plenty of it, but there was also incredible trust. She trusted me. If only her trust weren’t misplaced. I tore my eyes away and withdrew my hands. “I’ll go look for Erol. If he was that close to the explosion, he’s probably around here somewhere.” I stood up and left without looking back at her, afraid of her eyes.


	13. Alight

**October 1919**

**Kaliq**

I stopped outside the Gunja gathering house, listening to the voices inside. There was my master, and Kammani, and Cemal. I could also hear Karimi, the head of the Mashra family, Shazad Ismat, a former commander of the Dalihan militia, and Faiza, a scribe from the temple in Wahir, in a somewhat heated discussion. Then, Kammani suddenly opened the door.

“It isn’t polite to eavesdrop.” She said, a wry smile on her face.

I bowed my head. “My apologies.” She stood back and allowed me to enter. Cemal and my master were smiling warmly at me, welcoming me in. The others, who had probably only heard my name before this, seemed less thrilled.

My master spoke first. “Good evening, Kaliq. Come sit down.” There was a mat between him and Cemal that had been left empty for me. I moved over to them, but Faiza's words stopped me.

“Forgive me for my interruption, but can you explain why this man is being allowed to join us, Elyakim?” Her tone was hard, as expected of a woman of her age.

Elyakim’s smile widened at her. “Certainly, Sister Faiza. Kaliq has shown great character, and many in our community put faith in his judgement. He is also the closest of any Ishvallan to not only Colonel Miles, who is the officer currently in charge of the reconstruction of our land, but also Fuhrer Mustang, the most powerful man in the country.” I lowered myself onto my knees, rocking back onto my heels when he finished. Faiza grimaced, obviously displeased with my presence, but she said nothing.

“And why should we need someone close to the Amestrian government when our independence is swiftly approaching?” Shazad added his thoughts to the conversation.

“Because Ishval is not independent, yet, Brother.” I answered. “And in light of recent events, we may not be ready for independence.”

Shazad’s eyes flared. “And why is that?”

I bowed my head in respect. “We do not have the infrastructure to be our own country. Central Command had to send an investigation team out here in order for us to successfully locate the culprits. Until we can do such things on our own, we are not ready.”

The room was silent, tension evident. I was right, of that I was certain, but I knew it was not a popular argument. No one liked to be reminded that we still needed the Amestrians.

Cemal cleared his throat. “It is those current events that we’re here to discuss. Thanks to Capt. Havoc, working with Col. Miles, we know that the people behind the attacks are calling themselves the Wardens of Amestris. Most of them are former soldiers, who fought in the war, and are against the reconstruction for various reasons. Fortunately, their attacks are not linear in terms of their intensity, but we have no idea who their members are, or where they strike from.”

Kammani spoke up. “There’s also the issue of the rather incensed Ishvallans. They want the Amestrian military to leave entirely, assuming that some of the soldiers are currently enlisted. We don’t know if this is true, but as Kaliq said, we still need some assistance. If the angrier part of our community acts against the military, we could have a very difficult situation on our hands. After all, that’s how the war started, seventeen years ago.”

“So what do we do about it?” Karimi asked. He was very hard to understand, never giving any hint as to what he was thinking. He had a reputation for being fair to a fault, for which many disliked him.

“That’s one of the reasons I wanted Kaliq to be with us tonight.” My master said. He turned to face me. “I wanted Mida here, as well, but I didn’t want to risk her health. The colonel values your opinions, and listens to you. If you explain the situation to him as plainly as possible, he will understand. The two of you can come up with something for the Amestrian side of this. Mida has a way with the Ishvallan community, if you haven’t noticed. I’ve never seen anyone so adept at diffusing conflict.” The others nodded. I could just imagine the shade of red Mida’s face would turn if she could see the confidence the elders had in her. “She could talk to the leaders of those on the Ishvallan side of the conflict, get them to understand in ways that we cannot.”

“Yes, but what if that doesn’t work? Or what if Mida gets hurt?” I asked.

My master’s eyes softened, if that were possible. “If it doesn’t work, we come up with something else. I can’t guarantee Mida’s safety, but she is not the target of their anger.”

I didn’t feel particularly reassured, but everyone else seemed to agree with him. The meeting continued for a while, and we discussed many other issues, like the reconstruction of the Kanda gathering house, as well as reinstating the heads of districts. Being a part of these discussions was invigorating in ways I had not thought possible. I was making a difference, speaking for my friends, helping build a future for my people. It felt right, like I was supposed to be here.

At the end of the meeting, Cemal walked back with me. “So, how was it?”

I pondered over his question. “Good.”

He chuckled. “You get invited to the elders’ discussion, and all you can say about it was that it was good?”

“I enjoyed it.” I answered. Cemal laughed again, but didn’t ask me about it any further. I wanted to stop at the infirmary before I went home, so we parted there.

Walking down the hallway, I could hear laughter coming from the rooms that I passed. Even during the war, my people’s ability to lift their spirits and keep going had always amazed me. I had never been able to do that. First, I would just get angry. Now, I couldn’t help but feel sorrow at the destruction. But one look at Mida’s smile and the ominous dust clouds in my head would settle.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The bill passed, with the addendum that a public university for alchemists be built. Unfortunately, with that out of the way, there was nothing to distract the fuhrer from the situation in Ishval. About once an hour, he’d come into my office, asking me for an update. And about once an hour, I’d report that there was no update, that investigations take time, that Havoc and his team were doing the best they can, no, he didn’t need to send anyone else down there, and there was nothing more he could do. He’d stay later and later in the office, “just in case something happened.”

After a week, I’d had enough. He’d stuck his head out of the door of his office, around 8:30 - 8:31 p.m. to be exact. “Lt. col-” he started.

I slammed the folder I was working in down on my desk with a sharp crack. “Sir.” I closed my eyes for a brief moment before turning my sharpest glare onto him. “No, there has been no news. Yes, I did contact Col. Miles. No, more investigators would only crowd the area and make it more difficult for the investigators currently there. And no, sir, there is nothing more that you can do except _your job_.” I took a deep breath and reopened the folder to the last page of paperwork. I clicked my pen and started filling out the first few lines, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, I looked up again, exasperated.

He had that shocked look on his face, one I’d seen very few times before. It was a mixture of apologetic, scared, and confused. His mouth was slightly open, and for a second, I thought he was going to tear up. My eyes widened momentarily before I looked back down at my paperwork. “Forgive me, sir, that was uncalled for.” His feet moved toward me, so I continued my apology. “You have been doing your job, and you’ve been doing it very well. I understand why you’re so concerned about Ishval, and I’m sorry for mocking you.” He had come to stand right next to my chair, but I was afraid to look up at him. I really shouldn’t have said that.

His hand grabbed my arm and pulled me up. It was my turn to be shocked. I only had a moment to look at him before his arms wrapped around me, holding me in a very tight hug. “No,” he cleared his throat after the first word was jilted. “I’ve been unreasonable.”

I was glad of the later time as all of the other workers had gone home. I returned his embrace, resting my head on his shoulder. It felt nice, after a particularly trying week, to just be held. We stood like that for quite a while, and I could feel the exhaustion in his arms. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping properly, but then, neither had I. When I’d learned about what happened to the woman, Kaliq’s friend, who we had spoken to just before we left, any possibility of sleep had left.

Finally, the fuhrer pulled back, but kept his hands on my arms. “Tell me, what should I do now?”

He almost never asked me for advice. He knew that I would follow him, no matter what he did, and I’ve spent the last eleven years of my life learning how to think exactly like him, to predict his every thought. I knew his intentions and plans better than anyone, except himself. “What’s next on your list?”

He laughed quietly. “It’s our list now, isn’t it?” He had that look in his eyes again, the one I hadn’t seen since that night Grumman announced him as his successor. But this time, I couldn’t find a way out. He had me trapped with those eyes, and my heart was trapped in my throat.

I opened my mouth to begin speaking, but nothing came out. And my mouth was open, bringing forth all kinds of thoughts that I-we couldn’t afford. So I leaned forward and lowered my eyes so that they rested on his jacket, leaning in a bit to avoid his eyes. He seemed surprised, but his shoulders softened after a moment. “Sir,” I said, my voice quiet. “After abolishing state alchemy, your goal-”

“Our goal.” He whispered, pressing his face into my hair. My stomach did funny things when his breath touched the skin on the back of my neck. I hated how he could do this to me. I never lost control, ever, but here I was, clinging to him like a young girl, unable to look at his face, mumbling into his jacket.

I hesitated. “If you say so, sir. After abolishing state alchemy, our goal is to strengthen parliament.”

He lifted his chin to rest it on my head as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Honestly, it would have felt natural, if I weren’t on edge the whole time. “Having parliament abolish state alchemy pretty much met both of those. What next?”

I thought back over the many conversations we’d had, well, he’d had with others that I’d been present for, trying to remember. As I got lost in thought, I relaxed into him, forgetting everything except for,  “Make yourself less important.”

“And how can I do that?” His voice rumbled in his chest, against my head. I pulled back to look at him, feeling stronger, now that we were talking about something I felt comfortable with.

“I don’t know, sir. You are the most important man to - in Amestris.” His eyes still had that look, but it was different. It had a certain level of familiarity, which was far less threatening than the odd craving that used to be there. He smiled crookedly at my statement, guessing at the addition I was making to it in my mind.

“Well,” and then he did the strangest thing, considering the circumstances. He blushed. My heart slipped out of my throat and hit my ribcage with a resounding thud. If my internal organs would just stay put, perhaps we could carry on a somewhat civil conversation. “I was thinking about lessening my political importance by making myself a figurehead. Like someone who is socially important, but ineffective in every other way.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Socially important, sir?”

He sighed and lowered his head. I suddenly found myself freed from his grasp as he raised his hand to his head and turned around. “Of course, it would be unthinkable to start doing this now, while Ishval is going through all of this, but once that’s settled, maybe having some big social event, with a lot of press. And have Parliament do something big at the same time, like coming to terms with Aerugo.”

I felt a little empty without his arms around me, and I tried to recover from the loss. “What sort of social event, sir? Like a gala?”

“Yes, a big party would do nicely. And then we could emphasize my reputation some more.” He was trying to avoid saying something, which had always irked me. If he had something to say, he should say it.

“And what is your reputation exactly?”

He turned back around to face me, his eyes looking off toward the corner to avoid looking at me. Whatever that meant. “Well, you know. I’ve been known to, uh, get around.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Back when we were in Central, perhaps. But you haven’t really been on a date since we moved to Ishval.” I thought back to the conversation I’d had with Gracia. The rumors and doubts about him wouldn’t be helped if he picked up these old habits. But maybe that was what he wanted.

“Well, in Ishval, I didn’t have many options. Most of the Ishvallan women either didn’t like me because of what I’d done, or saw me as an old commander in the military. The only other women there, other than the occasional volunteer, were in the military.”

I raised my eyebrow again and smiled. “Is that the only reason you stopped dating, sir?”

He seemed unduly shocked by my question, and his mouth dropped open. He just stared at me for a minute. “Lt. Col., are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”

I backed off, seeing how I’d completely thrown him off track. “Probably not.” When I stopped to think about it, I could think of many reasons why he’d stopped dating, but none of them were cause for me to smile. I knew I had planned on joking with him about ceasing his somewhat womanizing ways because of the certainty of rejection, but as I looked at him, I knew that wasn’t true. Who in their right mind would say no to this man? “Forget I said anything, sir.”

He stared at me for a few moments longer before shrugging it off. “Is your only concern that I’d be a little rusty?”

I shook my head. It was time to tell him what Gracia had said. “I spoke with Mrs. Hughes a few weeks ago. She mentioned to me that your reputation as a ladies’ man is somewhat detrimental to your status in the eyes of the general population.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Really?” He looked off with a surprised frown. “I hadn’t heard that.”

“Yes, sir. She suggested you find a serious companion, rather than a fling.” Then, an idea popped into my head, one that I just couldn’t shake. He’d just opened his mouth to respond, when I said, “What about Gracia?”


	14. Glimmer

**October 1919**

**Hawkeye**

“You have one of their bodies?” I asked, glad I could finally give the fuhrer some good news. Havoc had finally made a break in their investigation.

“Yeah, Osman told us about him. He’s been dead about a week and a half so the smell is pretty awful. But we found something interesting on the inside of his hand.”

“Uh-huh.” I opened a notebook to take notes. Every detail was important.

“He has a tattoo, a circle. It looks like a ‘W’ with a circle around it. I don’t know if it’s a transmutation circle or not. We’re trying to figure that out, but we are having some difficulty with the available alchemists around. Marcoh is impossible to find without help, and Kaliq is reluctant to have anything to do with alchemy. Not to mention that Kaliq isn’t as familiar with this kind of stuff. It could just be a symbol of their name, the Wardens.”

I scribbled this down. “Kaliq will help you, if you stress its importance.  How is the atmosphere down there?”

I could hear him grimacing. “Most of the Ishvallans are just plain scared, but there have been a few people who’ve been taking it out on us soldiers. Nothing too serious, mostly yelling , sometimes throwing things. If we don’t resolve this soon, though, I’m worried things’ll escalate.”

I sighed and furrowed my brows. If the Ishvallans revolted against the military because of the Wardens, and the military fought back, then the Wardens, Ishvallans, and the military would lose. “Thank you, Havoc. Is there anything else you want to report?”

“Not much else is going on around here. Construction has almost completely stopped, and supplies are in greater demand because of the Warden’s sabotage, but you already knew that. How’re things going up there?”

“Parliament is meeting to discuss ending the border conflict with Aerugo as we speak. Fuhrer Mustang is there, as a spectator.” Mustang had felt it necessary for him to be there, but he hadn’t wanted to overshadow the proceedings, so he’d gone undercover, as a civilian. Him with his glasses, hairgel, and blazer was certainly a sight to see.

“And you aren’t with him?”

“He wanted me to stay behind to keep up with the Ishval situation. You know how he is.”

Havoc laughed. “Yeah. I’m surprised he could tear himself away. I should get back to work. I’ll try talking to Kaliq about it, see if he can help us out.”

“Thanks again. If the fuhrer doesn’t insist I call you, call your report in tomorrow, whenever’s convenient.”

“Will do, chief.”

* * *

**Kaliq**

Mida rolled over to me in her wheelchair. I’d been waiting to hear how her talk with Osman had gone, and from the look on her face, I knew.

“I couldn’t do it, Kaliq.” she said when she was within hearing distance. Her eyes were red and puffy and her shoulders were slumped. Kammani, who’d been pushing her chair, shook her head at me.

“He wouldn’t listen to her, called her a traitor.” Kammani grit her teeth. “If I’d been her, I would have lost it.”

I lowered my eyes. Mida had been so hopeful when she left, convinced she could talk Osman out of his hatred. I hadn’t been as sure, and I’d advised her to not expect too much. Now, seeing how disappointed she was, I wished with all my heart that I had been wrong.

“I need to go talk to Elyakim- _malim_ about this. Kaliq, can I leave her in your care?” Kammani was in a hurry to get away. The Council needed to come up with a way to deal with 'what-ifs'.

I nodded. Mida spoke up. “He’s taken care of me before. We’ll be fine.” She smiled up at me, her muscles breaking up the tear stains on her face. I marvelled at her strength, to smile in the midst of the tension.

Kammani rushed off and I stepped behind Mida’s chair. She reached her hand up and placed it on mine. A rush of adrenaline came from her touch, and almost withdrew my hand. But as much as she put up a front, I knew she needed that touch, so I left my hand there.

“Should I take you back to the infirmary?” I asked.

“Yes, please. I’d like to lie down.” I rolled her back, walking in silence. I couldn’t say anything to make this better, and it was too serious to try to distract her. In the end, it was she who spoke again.

“What do we do, if it happens again?” She was quiet, scared. She was only fourteen when the war happened - old enough to understand as an adult, but young enough to fear like a child.

“It won’t happen again.” My voice was steady. “It won’t be the same. We’ve both learned about the other, since the last one. And Fuhrer Mustang won’t give an order like Bradley. But if it happens, I will make sure that my family is safe.” _I won’t lose anyone else._

She turned her head slightly, to look back at me. “Your family? You found them?”

I smiled down at her. “In a way. You, Agniya, Vedran, Yousef, Cemal, Elyakim- _malim_. You are my family now.” Mida turned back to face forward, and her head tilted down. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I consider you family, as well.” We had reached the infirmary. I wheeled her down the hallways, and she would greet people as we went past. They would then smile at me, giving the same warmth to me as they did to her. I was surprised, but smiled back. We needed to stop the Wardens, stop Osman.

Those who still needed to be hospitalized had been given their own rooms, now that most of the victims had been released. Mida’s room had many small gifts littering the various flat surfaces. A nurse came and helped me get her into the bed. Mida smiled at the nurse, even though she was obviously in some pain from her back and legs. I waited as the nurse checked her vitals. When he left, Mida waved at me. “Come here.” I approached the bed and leaned down to hear what she wanted to tell me. She leaned up and kissed my cheek. I pulled back and looked down at her, completely dumbfounded. “Thank you.”

As quickly as the color had left my face, I could feel it rushing back. “There is nothing that you should thank me for.”

She smiled, a different smile than I’d seen her give just a minute ago. No, I was just imagining things. “Yes, there is. You’ve been so helpful, not just to me, but to Agniya, Cemal, and everyone. You always work so hard for others, and you never want any of the credit. You were the one who found me in the rubble and saved my life.” I listened to her praise, and I felt ashamed. If only she knew who I really was, what I’d done. “I asked Col. Miles about you. He told me a little bit about your adventures in Amestris.” I lowered my eyes, not wanting to know what she thought of me now.

She reached for my hand and grasped it tight. “You saved the entire country. Whatever else you did there, you were the one who beat Bradley. It’s pretty obvious that the Amestrians have forgiven you. You rejoined us, came back to us, almost a year ago, now. For the past six years, you’ve been working as an honest man, rewriting your history. Please, let it go and recognize that you have done amazing things. You are the best man that I know.”

With every word she said, I countered it in my head, lowering myself as much as she was raising me. I didn’t say anything, but I let her words slip past me, avoiding them.

She dropped my hand. “You needed to hear this, now, before things get any worse. You need to know how important you are in the eyes of your people; how important you are to me.” I met her eyes and saw earnest faith. How could she believe all the things she said, knowing what I had done in the name of Ishvalla? I couldn’t take it. I fell into a chair, and for the first time in ten years, I cried.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

“No. lt. colonel, I can’t believe you’re still pushing for this.” He leaned back on his desk and pushed a hand through his hair.

“Sir, she’s already on her way here to talk about it. The least you can do is meet with her.” I was tired of this argument. Ever since I suggested that he start dating Gracia Hughes, only as a publicity stunt, he’d been fighting me on everything, even insisting I stay behind when he left for his other duties. If he’d actually talked to me about why he didn’t like the idea rather than avoiding the topic, maybe I’d have listened.

“She knows about this?” He grit his teeth and looked to the side. When he spoke again, his voice was dangerously low. “You dragged her into this, tricking her into thinking it’s a good idea. Well it isn’t, and I’m … disgusted that you don’t get that.”

His tone told me that maybe I’d overstepped by bringing her over to my side. When I mentioned it to her, she was definitely on board, but there seemed to be something going on in his head that I just didn’t see. “I apologize for going behind your back. It won’t happen again.” I reverted back to protocol and formal language, just like always.

He looked up at me, eyes still angry. “Your apology is much appreciated, lt. colonel. Now,” he closed his eyes briefly, dumping all of the resentment toward me back into its usual place, to be locked away until a later date. “She’s on her way?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then let’s get ready for our guest.” He stood up from his desk and started walking around it. He stopped and turned back. “Is Elicia coming with her?” I could see traces of pain in his eyes. Was the girl why he was so reluctant to go along with this?

“No, sir. Mrs. Hughes said she would be visiting a friend today.”

“Does she know about this?”

Gracia hadn’t said anything about Elicia to me, except that she wouldn’t be coming. “Not that I know of, sir.” He nodded absent-mindedly and went back to his desk, shuffling papers around. I left, going back to my own desk to finish up on some paperwork while I waited.

Not five minutes later, someone knocked on the door. “Come in,” I said, loud enough for both the visitor and the fuhrer to hear. Lt. Kain Fuery opened the door and gestured for Gracia Hughes to enter.

“Thank you, Lt. Fuery.” she said as he saluted and left. She nodded at me. “Lt. Col. Hawkeye, it’s nice to see you.” She seemed to be studying me for something. I ignored her look as I answered.

“It’s nice to see you, too, Mrs. Hughes.”

She smiled. “If we’re going to be discussing what you talked about, I think you should start calling me Gracia.”

I returned her smile. “I guess you’re right. Fuhrer Mustang should be waiting for you. I’ll go let him know you’re here.” Her presence was putting me on edge, but I couldn’t figure out why. Knocking on the fuhrer’s door, I heard him stop moving for a moment before his chair was pushed back.

“Yes?”

I opened the door and stuck my head in. “Gracia Hughes is here to speak with you.”

He gave me a weighted look as he said, “Send her in.”

I turned back to Gracia and nodded. She placed her hand on my arm as she whispered, “I’d appreciate it if you’d come in with me. You know him better than I do, and we both want the same thing, I think.” Despite all the warmth in her tone and demeanor, I suddenly wanted to fail in convincing Mustang to fake a relationship with her. He obviously didn’t want it for reasons important enough to him that he thought I would already understand, and there was this nagging feeling that this was wrong. But it was the most reasonable course of action, so I ignored my feelings, which I had become very accustomed to doing, and placed a hand over hers.

He seemed surprised that I came in with her, but wore his fake smile he reserved for family. “Gracia, come in. It’s great to see you.”

“You too, Roy.” She looked around the room briefly. “This is an improvement for you, compared to your previous office, isn’t it?”

He laughed. “Yes, quite a bit. Please sit down.” He escorted her to one of the chairs facing his desk and then returned to his seat. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?” He was fishing, something he both loved and hated to do. It put all the pressure on the other person, but often left him in a cornered position.

Gracia glanced at me, slightly confused by his question. She’d thought he would be more direct about this. But I knew how childish he could be when he really didn’t want something. “I’d heard you were thinking about starting a serious relationship. I’d like to put my name up for consideration.” I could almost hear her thinking, _‘Ball’s in your court, Roy.’_ I should have know she could handle him. She had been married to Hughes for five years, after all.

“Consideration? It sounds like you’re applying for a job.” He had turned up the smoothness in his voice, which made me uncomfortable. He was doing badly and he didn’t know it.

“I am, in a way. Neither one of us is actually interested in a serious relationship, but it’s a beneficial scenario for us. You want to appear more socially invested while retaining respect as a leader, and I wouldn’t mind some stability for both me and Elicia.” Her bluntness impressed even me. As much as I was starting to dislike my idea, I hoped she’d stick around to keep him humble.

His smooth facade dropped, leaving nothing but honest reluctance. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Why not?” The bullets started flying between them. “I’m fully aware of what I’m getting into. You’re already a father figure for Elicia, whether or not we go through with this, so if that’s the issue you have with this, then there’s no basis for your concern.”

“That’s not it.” He could no longer meet her eyes, which almost sent me into full-out guard dog mode.

“Then what? Are you afraid that it’ll get exposed? Because I can be a very good actress when I need to be. Being married to Maes gave me a lot of experience in that area. Is it that you don’t feel like it’s moral to falsify a relationship? I have no problem with that whatsoever.”

“It’s not that.” I could see him beginning to break, just from her presence. And then she just kept pushing and pushing him. I wondered if maybe she was trying to break him.

And then she stopped. “Roy, just tell me why you’re so uncomfortable with this, please.” He met her eyes again, just for a moment.

“I can’t. I need a minute.” The worry on her face was genuine, if I took the time to look at her. But I was completely focused on the fuhrer. He was on the verge of tears, again, and it was my fault. He needed me to protect him and I threw him in the line of fire, so to speak.

Gracia nodded. “I’ll wait outside. Let me know when you’re ready to continue.” She stood to leave and I went to follow when she turned and leaned in to whisper to me. “Stay here. He’s going to need someone to talk to. He should be ready to talk now.” She had intended to break him, but not for her to hear - for me. The smile she gave me was reminiscent of one I used to see on Hughes’ face when he’d tease Mustang. The anxious feeling from before suddenly flipped and turned into dread. She left me standing there as she pulled the door closed. I looked back at my superior, who hadn’t seemed to notice I was still there. His head was resting on his hands, propped up on his desk. I said nothing, waiting for him. The slightest disturbance and all of Gracia’s work would be wasted.

“I can’t do it, Hawkeye. I can’t go through with it.”

He wanted me to say something, but I wasn’t as good with people as Gracia. I couldn’t make them confess their deepest thoughts. Honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. But he needed to get this out. “Sir?” I kept telling myself to keep it simple, give him just enough to keep going without changing anything.

“It’s Hughes.” Just those two words were enough to clear the air. I knew in that instant what had been troubling him. It hadn’t been about lying to Elicia, or leading Gracia on, or even lying to the people. It had been about honoring his best friend.

I approached his desk, trying to comfort him. “Are you afraid that he would have been upset?” He nodded. “He wouldn’t be. His wife is now alone, taking care of his precious daughter by himself. An opportunity arises for you, his best friend, to give them everything he’s ever wanted for them. Elicia will have the greatest opportunities he could have ever hoped for her. Gracia will have support in a great friend, someone whom he trusts beyond all others. And they will help you reach your goals, which Brigadier Gen. Hughes had been more than supportive of. He would have wanted this for you, and for her.” I knew it was the truth as I spoke it. And if that was what was holding him back, he was wrong.

He looked up at me with such vulnerability that I almost lost myself in him. But I remembered what we were doing, and why, and I stopped before I said something foolish. “Please, sir. This will help you reach your goal.”

He gave me a smile to reassure me that he was all right as he answered, “Thank you, lt. colonel. I didn’t realize you wanted this so badly.”

He was teasing me, and it was working. “If it’ll help you, sir, I’d do anything.” He raised his eyebrow and smiled, but didn’t respond with a comeback my statement had been asking for. We both knew what he could have said, and I blushed.

“Let Gracia back in.” I followed his order and brought her back to sit in the same chair at his desk.

“All right, Gracia, but we need to talk ground rules.” He had gone back to all-business.

She smiled - smirked? - “I agree.” She turned to look at me, almost too deliberately. “If you wouldn’t mind, Riza, would you let us discuss this alone?” I suddenly felt very suspicious of what was about to be discussed, but agreed and left. Once back in my office, I had to force myself to leave the door and sit down, trying to keep myself seated, rather than listening at the door. It bugged me more than I expected, that I couldn’t hear what they were saying. The possibilities of what they were discussing ate away at me as they sat in there. The first hour passed, and I was able to somewhat distract myself with paperwork. But then I finished the paperwork, and I just waited. The second hour passed, and I started thinking about the other parts of a romantic relationship. They’d certainly been in there long enough. My insides knotted up with anger, surprisingly. Why was I so upset about this? They were two consenting adults who were no doubt feeling lonely and - nope, not going there. All I could see when I thought about it was red. But why?


	15. Cross-Lighting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter contains racially-motivated violence.

**October 1919**

**Kaliq**

Col. Miles’ administrative assistant led us back to his office where he was sitting behind his desk, shuffling through papers. He was frowning, his glasses pushed up on his head. The assistant knocked on the door and Miles just nodded, still frowning. I pushed Mida’s chair into the room and waited for him to look up.

His expression mellowed when he saw us. “Kaliq, Mida, it’s good to see you.” He waved at a chair across from him, which I took. “What is this urgent news you mentioned?”

“You know that the Wardens are scaring our people.” Miles nodded at Mida. “Several of us are angry, and a few …” she looked down, but continued. “A few blame all Amestrians, particularly the military. They think that if the military wasn’t here, the Wardens wouldn’t be here, either. And then they think that the military isn’t doing enough to stop them, which has escalated into the opinion that the military is on the side of the Wardens.”

Miles grimaced. “It doesn’t help that one of the Wardens Osman saw before all this started was wearing an Amestrian military uniform.”

“No, it doesn’t.” I answered. “Mida tried to talk to them yesterday, but they ignored her. Osman is leading them, or he at least started it, and you know how he is. The Council of Elders met a few days ago, and they expressed concern that they could try to incite a conflict.”

Miles’ eyes flashed. “They wouldn’t. Not after the last war.”

“Anger and hatred is a powerful thing. It can take away all reasonable thought and leave nothing but the desire to hurt someone else.” Miles lowered his eyelids and nodded, understanding that I spoke from experience.

“How agitated are they?”

Mida replied, “One more thing could send them over the edge.”

“How many of them are there?”

“When I met with Osman, I saw about fifty others. There are probably more.”

Miles sat back and brought his hand up to his brow. We sat in silence for a few moments while he thought. I knew Miles could handle himself in a conflict, but I wasn’t so sure of how he handled preventing conflict. He spoke, “I’m going to contact the Fuhrer’s office about this, see what he thinks. Thank you for bringing this to me.” We were being dismissed, so I stood to leave.

There was a knock at the door and then the assistant stuck his head in. “Sir, there’s been another incident.” He glanced at us, clearly disturbed by whatever had just happened, but he was reluctant to say more while we were there.

Miles was putting on his coat as he said, “They’re trustworthy. What is it?”

The assistant could not meet anyone’s eyes as he answered, “An Ishvallan … was lynched.”

* * *

**Hawkeye**

Fuhrer Mustang walked in and hung his coat up on the coat hanger next to the door. I gripped my pen tightly, trying not to let concern show on my face. “Any news?” he asked, like he always did when he returned from meetings.

“Yes. Capt. Havoc just called.” I could hear my voice sounding flatter than usual. His body tensed when he heard me.

“How bad is it?”

I hesitated to answer, wondering just how to start. He didn’t need this on his plate, not when we’d finally gotten hope. “The emotional impact of the Wardens’ activities seems to have been more severe than we previously thought. According to Kaliq, a troublingly large number of Ishvallans have been organizing with the intent to harm. They blame the military for all of this. Kaliq expressed concern that they might riot, at the very least.”

His face shifted from alarm to dread as I spoke. “You talked to Kaliq directly?”

I bowed my head, my own concern for their safety pushing its way forward while I tried to relay the information as clearly as possible. “No, he wasn’t available. There was another attack just after Kaliq met with Col. Miles.”

“Another attack?!” Mustang’s voice rose to a shout. I was a little concerned that the others working in nearby offices would be disturbed by his outburst.

“Yes, sir.” I ignored the change in his tone and continued as I had been. “Havoc had yet to go to the scene himself, in order to get the news to us. An Ishvallan was killed, publicly.”

His jaw muscles went slack with shock. “Do we have any details?”

I shook my head. “The man who reported the attack used the word ‘lynch.’” The word itself left a bitter taste in my mouth. I’d heard of such things happening to Ishvallans in the slums before Ishval was reclaimed, but there hadn’t been word of anything like that in a few years. To hear of it now was repugnant.

The fuhrer’s eyes widened and all the fight left him. For a moment, I was afraid he would fall, but he maintained his balance long enough to sit on the vacant desk on the other side of the room. Judging from the look in his eyes, he knew what that meant, intimately. I stood up, taking a cup from the cabinet for some water for him. He accepted it silently, and took a sip. Then, he stared at the water for a moment while I waited for him to speak.

He took another sip before asking, “Did Havoc mention anything about the man they’d interrogated?” In his last report, Havoc had explained that they captured someone they believed to be affiliated with the Wardens. They’d found traces of the Wardens’ symbol tattooed on his hand, but he’d denied any knowledge of the group.

“He didn’t, sir. He was in a hurry to leave.”

“I bet he was.” The fuhrer set the cup on the desk and stood up, his presence of mind returning to his eyes. “Stay by the phone until someone reports back from Ishval. If you don’t hear anything by 10, call their base. I want more information before I go home tonight.”

“Of course, sir. Parliament convenes in ten minutes, if you still want to sit in.” He’d been sitting in when he didn’t have prior engagements. As much as he wanted to lessen the power of the military, he hated not knowing what was going on.

“Not today.” He smiled softly at me. “Thank you for the report, lt. colonel. I’ll wait in my office for now.”

I was averse to leaving him alone, worried that he might do something stupid. For the umpteenth time, I reminded myself that he’d gotten to the office of fuhrer and he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his plans. I saluted and returned to my seat as he entered his office. I picked up my pen to continue where I had left off, but my hand was shaking so badly that it left a trail across the paper. I hated when it got like this. The only thing I could do was wait it out until it stopped.

* * *

**Kaliq**

A crowd had gathered around the body, preventing us from seeing it as we approached. Miles and his team maneuvered their way to the front. I remained behind with Mida since we were not official personnel. Looking around, I couldn’t find Agniya or Cemal, and I was grateful for that. No doubt they had heard, but they were smart enough to know to stay away. If Vedran and Yasef were somewhere in the crowd, they’d be too short for me to spot them. I hoped they didn’t have to see this.

The soldiers began setting up a perimeter, pushing the spectators back. In the movement, I caught a glimpse of the crime. An older man, not old enough to be my father, but significantly older than me, was hanging upside-down from an unfinished roof. He’d been stripped of all his clothing and beaten severely. His face was bloated, probably from the stress of being suspended upside-down. My breath caught as I recognized him, despite the disfiguration. I didn’t know him personally, but he lived on the next street over from me. He was a gruff man, kept to himself, but he was very good in a crisis. When people started panicking over the tainted water supply, he rigged a filtering system out of basic household materials that could be placed over the spouts on the tanks within a day of the news getting out. I couldn’t remember his family name, but his given name was Diya. I could feel the anger building up inside me, such a familiar feeling.

Mida’s hand reached up to touch mine, bringing me back into focus. I scanned the crowd again. I saw one of Osman’s friends toward the front. He was glaring at Miles and his men, and the woman next to him was whispering violently in his ear. Leaning down, I pointed them out to Mida, who nodded. I was concerned that Osman and his followers would be incited into full out rebellion from this brutality. Mida turned her head to the side, tears clearly visible in her eyes.

“Let’s get out of here.” she pleaded. I responded by wheeling her chair back in the direction of the infirmary. When we were within sight, she gripped the arms of the chair until her knuckles were white.

“What is it?”

Her voice was dulled but firm. “We need to relocate the patients. The infirmary is too close to the command center.” She was afraid of an attack. No, not afraid, certain. No one in the infirmary knew about the lynching, yet, but Osman probably did. She was right; we had to act quickly.

In the infirmary, I asked a nurse to take me to the head physician. He was performing surgery on a broken leg, so Mida spoke to the logistics manager. They already had an evacuation plan in place, but that involved moving the critical patients into the now-demolished Kanda Gathering House. I could feel Mida’s despair at his words. She wanted to stay and come up with a plan, right then and there, but the officer was called away to deal with a new order of penicillin that had been delayed. He left us in the hallway feeling ignored.

After a moment of standing there in disbelief, Mida asked me to take her home. When I headed down the hall to her room, she stopped me. “Not there. I can’t stay here.” Her voice broke and she dropped her head into her hands.

I knelt down in front of her, putting my hand on her knee. “It’s going to be all right. You can stay with me.” She nodded and I went back to stand behind her chair. “We can handle this.”

* * *

**Hawkeye**

One of the soldiers under Miles called two hours later to report. The victim was Diya Samad, a middle-aged man from Kanda. He’d been wounded in the war and was a supporter of the military’s presence in the reconstruction. His death might sway those still on the fence against continued military intervention. The fuhrer, after hearing this, sat with his head rested on his hand for several minutes. I glanced at the clock. He was going to be late for the Parliament Committee on the Constitution, which I had worked very hard to move to this afternoon. He needed time to grieve, of course, but the world kept turning, no matter what happened. The most important thing was to focus on living, moving forward.

Thankfully, the phone rang, making him look up. I picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Greetings, Lt. Col. Hawkeye.” Major Armstrong’s voice chimed through the receiver.

“Major Armstrong, it’s been a while.” I tried to keep my voice light.

“Yes, indeed it has. I hope that your new position is treating you well.”

“Thank you. If you’re calling about the meeting, Fuhrer Mustang is on his way.” Major Armstrong, as the Parliament Sergeant at Arms, sometimes attended committee meetings, particularly those with controversial debates.

“That is well and good, but I am calling about something else.” He paused and resumed in hushed tones. “I have received some sensitive information that I am reluctant to relay over the phone. If possible, I would like to have a moment to speak to either you or the fuhrer sometime today.”

I blinked, wondering what Armstrong could have gotten his hands on that was important enough to discuss in person with the fuhrer. “All right. I can talk with you during the meeting, if you’d like.” Behind me, I could hear Mustang push back from his desk and stand.

“Thank you, lt. colonel. I will wait for you outside the meeting.” I heard him hang up and put the receiver back down. The fuhrer waited for me to join him before leaving the room.

As we walked down the hall, he asked, “What did the major want?” He had seemingly recovered from the news from Ishval and held himself with bravado. I knew it was all a mask for the soldiers we passed, and he was very good at putting on masks.

“He has some information he wants to deliver to me in person. I’ll be talking to him while you’re in the meeting.” I spoke nonchalantly, as if this was a mundane occurrence. From the way his back shifted slightly, I could tell he understood the unusual nature of Armstrong’s request.

“I’m surprised you have the free time to talk to him, given your responsibilities to your commanding officer.” His tone was mocking, just another part of the play he put on every day.

I smiled, preparing the retort he knew was coming. “I thought you would know, sir, that water-filled spray-bottles work just as well at getting flame alchemists to carry their own weight as getting dogs to stay off the couch.”

His smile was genuine at that. “I constantly underestimate you, lt. colonel.” His voice had a decidedly familiar tone, so familiar that it worried me. He seemed to realize this as well, and his smile widened as his mask slipped back into place. I thanked the powers that be that we weren’t still in his offices, where things like that weren’t avoided. When he started dating Gracia, he began acting awkward when we weren’t focusing on something else. I assumed he was still uncomfortable with the whole situation and blamed me for it, since I proposed the idea.

We walked the remainder of the distance in silence, occasionally nodding at people as they passed by. We crossed the courtyard to the parliament building and through the main corridor to where the smaller conference rooms were located. Armstrong was waiting in the hallway and saluted as we approached him.

“Good afternoon, Fuhrer Mustang and Lt. Col. Hawkeye. As always, it is a pleasure to see you.”

“Good to see you, too, Major.” Mustang answered. “I understand you have some news for my office. I’ll leave you with my adjutant for this.” He nodded at me before entering the conference room.

Major Armstrong turned behind him to look down the corridor. “Thank you for speaking with me so promptly, lt. colonel.”

“You implied that it was urgent.” His obvious reluctance to be overheard gave me the urge to look over my shoulder as well. “Let’s go into one of the conference rooms.” I reasoned that it was late enough in the day that most of the rooms on this hallway would be empty. Sure enough, the room directly to the left of where the fuhrer’s meeting was taking place was vacant.

I flipped the light switch as we entered and then turned to face the major. He shut the door very quietly. When he spoke, it was just loud enough to reach my ears, but soft enough that it didn’t reach the opposite wall. “Several members of parliament have received threatening letters. From the contents, it is obvious that the author has inside knowledge of proceedings and military organization. The handwriting is inconsistent, but I have reason to believe they originate from inside the military.”

Threatening letters were not uncommon, but this seemed a bit more than that. “On what grounds do you conclude that they were sent from inside the military?”

Armstrong drew an envelope from his jacket and passed it to me. I could see the Amestrian seal plainly, and when I opened the letter, it was written on military stationary. The letters were irregularly spaced and sized, implying that it was written by multiple people. Multiple people, writing the same letter. We were dealing with a group rather than one discontented soldier. If the other letters were like this, then the group must be organized in some fashion. The letter was addressed to Josef Duval, the Speaker.

> _Speaker Duval,_
> 
> _If parliament continues to limit the power of military officers, as it has in the recently passed Bill 17.1, we will be forced to take drastic measures against you and your family. We understand your son just celebrated his third birthday. If you do not comply, that may be his last. Bring Bill 17.1 back up for discussion and ensure it is overturned. Remember that it’s the military who call the shots in Amestris. Try to change the privileges in the ranks above lieutenant again, and we will not send you a warning letter before directing the consequences._

I put the letter back into the envelope and handed it to Armstrong. “It does seem to be from the military. How many members of parliament received these?”

“Twelve, each of them receiving different messages. Most of them concern the legislation mentioned in that letter, but a few talk about the recent negotiations with Aerugo.”

I remembered the bill they were angry about. It altered very little in terms of actual power. If anything, the worst repercussion would be that future legislation would not be available to the military before it was available to parliament. “Did any of them mention Ishval?”

Armstrong seemed confused. “No, none at all.” Then the Wardens were not involved in this.

“I’ll speak to Fuhrer Mustang about this and communicate with you later. Thank you for bringing this to our attention. For now, I can promise that guards will be assigned to anyone who received such a letter.”

“Thank you, lt. colonel. It brings me relief that you will dedicate your hard work to this case.” His voice was dangerously close to his ripping-off-shirt tone.

“Of course, major.” He saluted me and we walked out of the room. Checking the clock on the wall, the meeting wasn’t close to over, so I went back to my office to wait and finish up some paperwork. Between the recent developments in Ishval, drafting a new constitution, and this, we were going to be working overtime for weeks.


	16. Warmth

**October 1919**   


**Hawkeye**

I sat down to read Havoc’s report for the first time. It had been a busy day, what with the representative from Aerugo here to negotiate terms to end the conflict. We’d received the report about three hours ago, right in the middle of a heated argument about the border of the Amestrian city Usteril. The city had been repeatedly sieged and claimed by both sides during the course of the war. Aerugo currently claimed it, but Amestris had owned the land before the conflict started. In the end, Aerugo was given ownership of the land, in exchange for a larger portion of the region southeast of South City.

Havoc reported that they had found the boy who had been with Mida when the Wardens attacked the Kanda Gathering House. He’d explained that he recognized the man who’d attacked them as a man from Dublith. He’d given the Ishvallans living in the slums near the city a particularly difficult time, refusing their business and encouraging others to buy land out from underneath them, forcing them to move. Upon further examination, Havoc discovered that the man’s name was Lucas Tosetti, a plumber from Dublith. They obtained a picture and showed it to Mida, who then confirmed that he was the man who attacked them. They were searching for Tosetti and expected to find him within a day or two.

There had been no new developments so far as the unrest among the Ishvallans was concerned. Osman was still vocal, as usual, and he did have a few others with him, but they had not made any move on large or violent enough to report. Kaliq remained a liaison between the military and the Ishvallan Council of Elders.  


I reached the end of the report and sat back in my chair. The fuhrer was not alone in his frustration about his actions taken to help with this. Things in Central moved so slowly. No, that’s not true. Things in the fuhrer’s office moved slowly. Everything was done through a drawn-out process for which there were hundreds of rules, overseen by at least twenty people, and reviewed by many more. I am very good when it comes to following through with the rules, but it was beginning to frustrate me, that Havoc was out there, his hands shoulder-deep in an investigation, and I was here in Central, negotiating with a representative for hours over the wording of one sentence on one page of a hundred-page treaty. I could feel the restlessness building up in my chest, and I took a deep breath. In, out, slowing my thoughts and my heartbeat. This is what it took to reach Mustang’s goals, and I would follow through until the end.

A few minutes later, while I was organizing the fuhrer’s schedule for next week, I heard someone knock on the door. “Come in,” I called, taking a moment to straighten the papers on my desk before looking up.

Fuhrer Grumman was smiling at me, his hair slightly more frazzled than normal, his face thinner. He was in civilian clothes, which I was unaccustomed to. “Good afternoon, Lt. Col. Hawkeye.” he said.  


I stood up and gave a salute. “Good afternoon, Fuhrer Grumman, sir.” Dropping my salute, I asked, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

He chuckled. “Polite as always, I see. It’s been some time since I’ve seen you and Mustang, so I thought I’d come by. How are you doing?”

For all that he appeared older and weaker, I knew that he was still as sharp as he ever was. He wouldn’t stop by just to chat, especially considering he knew what a day in the fuhrer’s office looked like. “I’m doing well. We’re in the middle of negotiations with Aerugo and the investigation in Ishval.” While I was speaking, I couldn’t sense anything from his demeanor about his purpose here, but I knew it wouldn’t take long. He didn’t like beating around the bush, despite his infamous subtlety.

His eyes softened. “It’s a terrible situation, Ishval. I’m just glad it didn’t happen on my watch. How is Fuhrer Mustang holding up?”

I smiled. His concern for my commanding officer was genuine; it always had been. “As well as can be expected. It bothers him, being stuck here while they are struggling.”

His eyebrows raised in agreement. “I would imagine so. But he’s had a bit of fun, too, with his new friend, or so I’ve heard.” He smirked to the side. “I never would have picked him to go after a woman like her.”

So he was here for the inside scoop. “He changed after the Promised Day. He knew he wanted more than his previous flings, and Gracia is a lovely woman.” I would not give him anything. I’d stick to the story we’d all decided on and leave him high and dry.

“She is indeed. Actually, I’d like to get to know her better. I’d like to host a dinner in honor of the fuhrer’s first successful three months. I’ll host it at my estate, and invite a few close friends. Do you think that will work with Mustang’s schedule?”  


I blinked. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I flipped through the next few weeks, and went over the list of events I hadn’t yet scheduled in my head. “Yes, that would work. Thank you for your support.”

He waved his hand at me. “It’s nothing. Would the week after next suit your schedule?”

Looking at the dates in question, I nodded. He had nothing scheduled for the evenings then, other than a date with Gracia. “What night did you have in mind?”

“Friday, if that’s possible.” It was, and we settled it. I was a little uncertain about going to a dinner at Grumman’s home, but I knew the fuhrer would make me go. Fuhrer Grumman didn’t stay long after that. If I didn’t know better, I would think he was just as uncomfortable around me as I was around him.  


* * *

**Kaliq**   


In the days that followed the brutal attack, we kept our ears to the ground, looking for any sign that Osman would be making his move. At the same time, Mida wanted to spend more time with Agniya and the boys. If something did happen, she wanted to be as close to her - our - makeshift family as possible. Agniya was having a very hard time by herself. Losing Suraya destroyed part of her, and she had difficulty focusing on everyday tasks. Mida helped her as much as she was able. She was going to be confined to a wheelchair for at least a few more weeks, but she helped keep Yasef occupied.

We had just returned to my home one night when she did something incredibly foolish. I had turned my back for a second, just to light the lamp on the table, when I heard a thud and she yelped. She was lying face down in front of the chair, her legs bent behind her as she pushed herself up with her hands. Toby, who had been coming up to greet us, scampered away, barking.

I rushed to her and knelt down. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m fine. A little sore, but nothing’s hurt.”

I helped her back into the chair, lifting her up in my arms. There was a moment when she was very close to my chest and I could feel her breath moving the sash. My face flushed, but she was too focused on her movements to notice, Ishvala be thanked.

Once she was settled, I pushed her over to the table and sat at the bench. “What happened?”

She looked down, a faint smile revealing her embarrassment. “I thought I would surprise you.”

I frowned. “Surprise me?”

She nodded. “I’d been practicing with Agniya and the doctors. I tried to stand up.”

My eyes widened. I was … I don’t know what I was. Shocked that she was ready to try standing, angry that she attempted it without help, touched that she wanted to show me how far she’d come, and worried that she may have hurt herself again. I reached for her hand and gripped it firmly. “Don’t do that again, please.” My words sounded harsh, and I hated myself for the grief in her eyes.

“I won’t.” She opened her mouth to continue, but closed it again.

“What?” I tried to keep the harshness from my tone, but I don’t know if I succeeded. Her face didn’t change, and she shook her head. “Please, Mida. I’m sorry that I seem angry. I’m just worried about you.” I loosened my hand, but she gripped it tighter.  


She blushed and stared down at our hands. “I just wanted to show you that I’m doing better. You’ve done so much - you are always there for me, you let me stay in your home - and I feel like I’ve done nothing for you. I wanted to show you that I am getting closer to being able to rely on myself and not be a burden to you.” She stopped suddenly, her face still red.

I smiled. “You are not a burden. You could never be a burden. Being around you is a privilege. If I could be around you for the rest of my life, I would be the happiest man alive.” The words came out of my mouth before I knew what I said, and when I realized what I said, my face froze and my heart dropped into my stomach.

Her eyes widened as she stared at me. I tried my best not to avoid her gaze, knowing I had to face what I said. Her mouth widened into a smile and she put her other hand on top of mine. “Thank you. If I could be with you for the rest of my life, I would nearly burst with happiness.” Her fingers caressed the back of my hand, giving me pleasant goosebumps all over my arm. She brought up her other arm to my face, her smile much warmer, much more intimate. I leaned into her touch, closing my eyes and letting the joy of her presence fill me from head to toe. A strange energy flowed through me as we sat like that, urging me on. I reached up to pull her hand down from my face, so that I could bring her face closer to mine. Her hand rested on my shoulder, drawing me in. I checked her eyes for any trace of hesitation. Finding nothing but earnest compassion, I closed the space between us.

I brushed her lips with mine, feeling the softness of her skin and revelling in the new connection between us. I stayed there no more than a few seconds before pulling back. Her eyes were filled with light, and as the moment ended, she laughed slightly and bit her lower lip.  


* * *

**Hawkeye**   


"I'm getting ready to pick up Gracia. Would you like a ride?" Fuhrer Mustang stretched his arms out into his sleeves of his suit coat, already sure of my answer. Sometimes if we were headed the same direction, we would ride together.I didn't own a car - it had never seemed necessary.

"Thank you, sir. I just need to finish this sheet and then I can leave." I had a hard time focusing on the words on the paper as I thought about what was to come. My stomach had risen into my chest, and my heart into my throat. I set the pen back into the holder and tucked the papers into their rightful place in my desk. "I'm ready, sir."

"Good." His mouth was set, as it always was when he had a date with Gracia after work. I knew it hurt him, but he understood why this was necessary.

In the car, we sat in uncomfortable silence, which was becoming more and more common in the past few weeks. My palms were moist as I thought about tonight and what I would be doing. I could face down many enemies and stand up to people whose authority far surpassed mine, but this? I had very little experience in this department, and I wanted it that way. Talking to Winry and Ed and Al were special circumstances, and even then I was not sure what to do. But Gracia had asked me, as a last resort, so I agreed.  


Elicia opened the door to let us in. "Hi Uncle Roy. Mom's finishing her hair and she told me to talk to you before she left." She smiled a sideways grin that made my heart tense for a moment. I knew that grin very well. It was Maes's. I felt Mustang stiffen for a moment, and then he relaxed.

"Thank you. Can we come in?" Elicia nodded and stood back for us to enter. She smiled at me as I passed and I smiled back. That was all that I knew to do. Smile at children when they looked at you, advice from Rebecca back in the academy.

"Hello, Elicia."

"Hello, Miss Riza." I didn't know what to say to her after that, so I stood and waited for something to happen. Elicia walked in front of us, expecting us to follow, and led us into the sitting room. She plopped down on a cushioned chair across the room and stared happily at us.

"Did you have a good day at school?" Mustang asked.

Elicia nodded. "We went to art class today and learned how to press flowers. Would you like to see?" Mustang nodded and Elicia hopped off the chair over to the corner where a collection of recently used bags laid. She pulled out a simple notebook and brought it over to us. When she opened it, there was a crushed flower, its petals bent at odd angles, lying towards the binding.

"That's lovely. You did a great job." Mustang's voice was impressed and genuine, much softer than I was used to hearing. Elicia then showed us some other art projects, enough to show that while she certainly had the enthusiasm, she needed practice. I remembered my art projects. I never liked them; I thought they were too impractical. It was when she had pulled out her 'portfolio' that Gracia came down the stairs.  


"Sorry to keep you waiting. I thought I'd have more time after work today." A simple lilac dress rippled as she moved, her shoulders covered with a light shawl. Her hair was beautifully curled, just enough for a gentle wave. She was elegantly pretty. We stood up to greet her and Mustang smiled as he looked at her. It was more of a familiar, friendly smile than most men use to greet their dates, but it was kind.

"You look beautiful." He said, his tone brotherly. Nevertheless, she blushed.

"Thank you." She turned to me. "And thank you for watching Elicia for me. I hope I didn't mess up your plans."

I smiled. "It's fine. I didn't have any plans tonight. And I haven't really had a chance to spend time with her, so I was glad of the chance." Most of that was mostly true.

"Well, it means a lot. I know Elicia is excited." She smiled at her daughter who suddenly blushed, unusual for someone of her disposition. And then I knew that Elicia was just as nervous as I was.

"We're going to have some fun, aren't we?" I asked her, trying to make my voice light and friendly. She smiled a little bit and then looked toward her mother. I wondered if Gracia had said something to her about me, that made her act so shy toward me. She didn't seem to have a problem talking to me the last time we met, nor talking to Mustang just a few minutes ago.

"I think it's time we left. Our reservation is in ten minutes." He seemed a little reluctant to leave, and if Gracia noticed, she ignored it.  


On the way out the door, Gracia kept telling me details. "Make sure she's asleep by 9:30. If you have any problems, Mr. Burns across the hall is familiar with our routine. He's watched Elicia once or twice, but he hurt his leg recently."

I tried to assuage her concerns, but I'm not sure she was convinced. I hadn't really babysat before, in her defense, and my reputation wasn't exactly maternal. The door finally shut behind them and the room was suddenly silent. I turned to face Elicia, who had her hands clasped behind her back.

"All right now. Are you hungry for dinner yet?" She nodded. "Okay. Your mom said there was something in the fridge to heat up." I walked off toward the kitchen, glad of something to do. I could hear Elicia's footsteps behind me. I don't know if she didn't want to be alone or if she didn't trust me in her kitchen. Probably both.

I was silent as I prepared the food, waiting to see if Elicia would say anything. When she didn't, I asked, "How does it feel, that your mom is dating someone?" I didn't know how she would react to that question.

She was silent for a few moments, then I heard rustling and assumed she shrugged. "It's okay. I don't really remember much about my dad. And Uncle Roy is nice."  


I glanced at her for a second, trying to gage her expression. She was staring at the table, sitting on a chair, her shoulders a little hunched like she was trying to seem insignificant. It never occurred to me that she wouldn’t remember Hughes, but she was only three at the time. I had very few memories of my mother, who died when I was older than Elicia had been. Mustang had always had a soft spot for Elicia, especially after her father died. Whenever we’d be in Central, he’d stop by about once a week, and if we’d gone somewhere far away, he would always bring her a souvenir. I didn’t think she would have any problem with him being around more often.

“Miss Riza?” Her voice sounded quieter, like she was nervous.

“Yes?” I turned my attention back to the stove, so that she might feel more at ease.

“Do you like kids?”

I froze for a second. I had been asked many questions over the years, but not that. It was easier to talk about being a soldier or working for the fuhrer or fighting in a war or being raised by a single dad. I didn’t have very many friends growing up; most of the other children separated themselves from me because of my father.I thought about the children I had encountered - Ed and Al, Winry, Mei Chang, and a few Ishvallan children - it was never a question of liking them for their age.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I haven’t met very many children. But overall, the ones I have met seem very nice.” My answer didn’t seem to satisfy her.

She seemed more confident to ask me questions now that I had shown myself willing to respond. “Do you want to have kids?”  


What exactly did Gracia say to her? “If the right time and place and person comes along, I’ll think about it then. Right now, it doesn’t seem very practical to have children.” Truthfully, I did want children. I had wanted to be a mother since I was young, but as I grew up and I saw so much pain and tragedy, I knew I never could. And then there was Mustang and Ishval. After that, my life had one goal and a definite stopping point, leaving no room for children.

“Why not?” Her spunk was creeping back into her voice.

Okay, she was definitely trying to get to a point. “Well, I’ve just been promoted recently and I need to focus on my work right now. I also want to be in a steady relationship if I have a child.” Both of those were true, and both were valid reasons. I hoped she would hurry up and say what it was she was thinking.

Then, the food was ready and I ladled out the stew into bowls. “Here you go, Elicia.” I sat

a bowl down in front of her and we began to eat. For a few moments, there was blessed silence.

It didn’t last long. “How come you aren’t in a steady relationship?”

This time, I didn’t miss a beat, blowing on my spoonful before answering. “I haven’t met someone I like and I’m too busy at work to go out and find someone.”

“What about someone at work?” Considering her previous suggestion that I marry Mustang, I could almost guess what she was insinuating. Perhaps my question prompted this line of interrogation.

“I don’t like anyone at work, not enough for that. And there are the fraternization laws, which state that soldiers cannot be romantically involved with other soldiers.”

“Oh.” She slurped some broth, seemingly done asking questions.

“Why the curiosity?” I asked. She looked up at me suddenly and I smiled.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought it would bother you that Uncle Roy is dating my mom. I thought that’s why you asked me.” There was definitely something else.  


“Is that all? Then why did you ask me about kids?” She stirred her stew around without taking a bite or acknowledging my question. “Did your mom say something?” She nodded. “What did she say?”

She frowned. “She said that you haven’t spent much time around kids and you might be shy.”

I smiled. Gracia was just trying to help me out, by impressing on Elicia that she might need to act a little less impulsive around me. “She’s right. I haven’t spent much time around kids. Do I seem shy to you?”

She shook her head. “You seem nice. You’re different than my mom or Uncle Roy, but you’re nice.”

With that understanding between us, we spent the rest of the evening talking about school, and I explained to her what “Uncle Roy” and I did at work. I put her to bed and spent the rest of the evening reading. Gracia and the fuhrer came back around 10:30, and we all sat down for some tea before he and I left.  



	17. Torch

**October 1919**

**Kaliq**

“Come on! Wake up!” Someone was vigorously jostling my arm, waking me up from a strange dream involving my brother. I turned my head to see who it was and found a boy standing there. He was lit from behind, so I couldn't tell who it was. “Please, wake up!” Vedran's voice quickly stirred my thoughts from sleep and I shot up.

“What's going on?” I asked.

“It's Osman. He and his group are in front of the army headquarters. They're shouting and holding weapons. Aunt Agniya told me to come get you.”

I stood up and began getting dressed. “Is she there now?”

Vedran nodded. “She and Cemal and Elyakim-malim. They are trying to calm other people down, but I don't think it's working.”

I frowned. I had thought Osman would have made his move sooner, and in broad daylight, where he could do more damage. Something must have happened. I explained to Vedran that he needed to go home and stay there and then went to wake Mida. I grimaced. Her inability to walk would be dangerous for her if she went, but the choice was hers to make.

I knocked on the door and she answered, already in her chair. In the dim light, I could see her mouth was set. “I heard Vedran. Let's go.” Her voice was cold, something I'd never heard from her.

Within minutes, we were at the military base, along with perhaps 300 other Ishvallans. Most seemed to be participating. Osman stood at the front, facing the crowd, shouting. With all the movement around us, I couldn't quite make out what he was saying. I looked around to find Cemal or Agniya, but it was too dark. Judging by the sky, it was around 3 a.m, but the air was distorted from the torchlight.  Mida reached for my hand.

“Go to the front. We need to know what's going on.” Her voice still chilled me, but there was fear behind it, too.

The crowd, seeing Mida in her chair, parted to let us up to the front. Examining their faces as we went, I noticed that most were afraid, rather than angry. But then, that was just as threatening.

We could finally hear Osman about 100 ft from where he was standing.

“-and take it! They obviously didn’t want to help us, and the first chance they got, they turned against us! They sent an alchemist, who killed more of us than anyone could count, to bring us back to our former glory, and he left when it got a little tough. And now, all the Amestrians treat us like shit! They think of our children as scavenging animals, and us as free labor! It’s time we take back Ishval from the Amestrians! We need to make sure they understand that we want them to GET OUT!” The crowd around us picked up the chant, “ _GET OUT GET OUT!_ ” I heard one man yell, “GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OUR COUNTRY!” We couldn’t stay here, not without being caught up in whatever happened next. I looked around for an escape route, but the crowd was too thick. I wouldn’t be able to push Mida’s chair through without risking injury. Then, I saw a man brandishing a piece of scaffolding in the air.

I leaned down. “We have to go.” She nodded, her eyes the only part that gave away her anxiety. I pushed people around to get in front of the chair and lifted her up. She sucked in a breath at the discomfort of her arms pulling in an unusual way, but she said nothing. I angled her feet to part the sea of people. _‘Ishvalla, please help us.’_

I heard a familiar voice through the crowd and turned left to see Cemal and Agniya standing near the street opening. After several minutes of moving people out of the way, I reached them.

“Are you all right?” Agniya put her hand on Mida’s arm.

“I’m fine. What happened?”

Agniya pulled her hand back. “An Amestrian soldier was a little casual with his gun toward some teenagers hanging around the Wahir Gathering House. No one was hurt, but they went to Osman first.”

I was confused. There was no way the military would act like that, not after Col. Miles had forbidden the soldiers to carry guns around Ishval. “Are we sure he was a soldier and not a Warden?” I asked.

Cemal answered, “No, but he was wearing a uniform.”

“Kaliq?” Mida called out above the roar of the crowd. “Can you put me down? If I lean against someone, I think I can stand.”

“It’s fine. I can hold-”

“Please.” Her tone softened. “You need to be ready to act if things turn bad. You can’t be holding on to me.” She smiled. I nodded, lowering her so that her feet were on the ground. I kept a firm grip around her shoulders and felt her weight against my side. Agniya stepped around to her other side, taking her hand. After making sure she was stable, I turned back to look at the crowd.

A loud roar of approval came from the front of the mob as Osman stepped down from his platform. He was hidden from view, and all I could hear was some sort of chant slowly spreading from the people closest to him. As the chant grew nearer and louder, I could make out the words.

 

_“BURN, BURN, BURN, BURN, BURN, BURN”_

 

A cold hand wrapped around my heart as I pushed my way forward, leaving Mida with Agniya, desperate to stop what Osman was about to do. People refused to budge, and I began shoving them out of the way. Some shoved back, slowing my progress, but all I cared about was reaching Osman and taking the torch out of his hand.

Then I saw the smoke climbing into the sky and the light. The Amestrians had built their headquarters with wood and plaster, and now it was glowing.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The phone was ringing when I got to the office in the morning. _‘Another long day,_ ’ I thought. I dropped my bag next to the desk and picked up the phone. “Fuhrer Mustang’s office, Riza Hawkeye speaking.”

“Lt. Colonel, this is 2nd Lt. Wilfred Perrault, from Ishval. I have urgent news for the fuhrer. Please put me through.”

I glanced to the door. “I’m afraid the fuhrer isn’t in his office yet. Can I take a message?” The lieutenant’s tone was putting me on edge. He sounded out of breath, like he’d been running and yelling.

“This is extremely sensitive information. Captain Havoc told me to deliver this message directly to Fuhrer Mustang.” My ears perked up.

“Why isn’t Capt. Havoc relaying this information directly, if it’s so important?” I asked.

I heard him hesitate. “He’s a little busy at the moment.”

In the space after Lt. Perrault spoke, I could hear shouting in the background. I knew then, and a large rock settled in my esophagus. “Lieutenant, I will-” The door swung open and Mustang walked in, shooting me a grin. His grin faded when he saw my expression.

“Lt. Perrault, Fuhrer Mustang just arrived. I will patch you through to his office.” I gestured for the fuhrer to go to his phone in the other room. I pressed a button on the conference machine and sat down in my chair, not bothering to take off my coat. A long day indeed.

Ten minutes later, he called me into his office. I put his agenda in the top drawer of my desk and walked in. He had a piece of paper with writing scrawled over every inch and he was still writing on it. I closed the door behind me and approached his desk.

After a moment, he put his pen down and looked up at me, his eyes hard. “Osman started a riot. They burned down the army headquarters and the barracks. The infirmary has also been damaged, but the soldiers managed to hold them off.”

The stone in my esophagus grew until it was clogging my throat and weighing down my heart. “Do we have an estimated number of casualties?”

Mustang sighed and looked back down at his notes. I’m fairly certain he knew the answer, but I think the notes helped him process it. “They don’t know exactly, especially for the Ishvallans, but there are currently 28 soldiers being treated for related injuries. They have confirmed two deaths among the Amestrians.” He raised his hand to his forehead, pushing his hair back. “We need to set up a press conference. Right now.”

“Yes, sir.” I replied, my voice clear and steady. We needed to act quickly. As I turned to leave,  the fuhrer picked up another piece of paper, probably to write down what he was going to say. I was grateful for the immense workload ahead of me, and for the fuhrer’s responsibilities, as well. We had to keep moving, so that we wouldn’t have time to react.

* * *

**Kaliq**

No one ever talks about the sheer chaos of a riot. In the heat of the moment, in the midst of surging emotions and jumbled movement, most of the people just tried to get away. But they didn’t know which way to go. Those who were still surging forward pulled the uncertain ones along with them. And then the soldiers came. From where I was, I could see Capt. Havoc running out of the headquarters, screaming orders. Then, a young man next to me fell, knocked by a stray crowbar. I knelt down and grabbed him, pulling him up. The side of his head was bleeding and he seemed dazed, but there was no time to give him the care he needed. If we stayed, we’d be trampled.

“Move!” I growled, and the people closest to me flinched away. I dragged the boy through the crowd, barreling through those stupid enough to stand in my way. I shut out the screams around me, and kept moving when I heard the gunfire. _What the hell is Havoc doing?_ Shooting the rioters would do nothing to help them.

Finally, we reached the edge of the crowd and I saw Agniya helping Mida get back down the street. It looked like slow going. Even with the injured man holding on to my shoulder, we caught up with them fairly quickly. Around us, several others were fleeing the scene, just trying to distance themselves from the confusion.

“Agniya.” I called out when we were a few feet behind them. They stopped and turned around. “I can carry Mida if you will help him.” We traded our patients so that we could get out sooner. We were far enough away that I knew we weren’t in immediate danger, but the safest place was indoors. We needed to get back to our homes. Or at least Mida did. Every shout from behind us made me want to scream in frustration and run back to help them put out the fire, but I couldn’t just leave them here. They needed help. Besides, Cemal and Elyakim- _malim_ were there.

We reached Agniya’s house after a few minutes and Vedran was waiting on the doorstep. He had obviously been crying, but his face was dry when we approached. Agniya called out, “Vedran! Go get the extra cot from my bedroom!” The boy ran inside. When we got to the door, he was waiting, pulling back the curtain to let us in. His face was set, all traces of his fear gone. Sure enough, there were three cots on the ground in the main room. We laid Mida and the man down and Agniya began inspecting him.

“Who is the third cot for?” I asked.

Agniya didn’t take her eyes off of the man as she answered, “It’s for you.” Mida sat up on the cot, giving me a worried look. I looked down at my hands, checking for injuries on my arms and legs. When I bent down to check my knees, I felt it. It was on my back, and it _hurt_. I tried to stand back up, but the pain was too much. Slouched over, I made my way to the available cot. I ran my hands over the wound, which seemed be a large welt covered in blood. _How did that happen?_ I tried to remember when exactly I was injured, but I couldn’t. I had been too focused on helping the man.

Looking over at him, his eyes seemed unfocused and he was unresponsive to Agniya’s touch and voice. We didn’t even know his name. I turned back to Vedran, who was looking at us with larger eyes, even if the rest of his face didn’t give anything away. “Where’s Yasef?” I asked.

He jumped when I addressed him. “He’s in our room. I told him to wait there.”

Agniya turned to him and smiled. “That’s good. Thank you for your help, Vedran. Now, can you help Aunt Mida lay down?” Vedran nodded and knelt next to Mida, who seemed a little impatient.

“Agniya, I’m fine. I can help you.” She tried to push herself off the ground, but her legs didn’t respond very well. She glared at them and Vedran sat next to her, unsure of what to do.

“You need to rest. You just walked more than you have in two weeks.” Agniya paused for a moment, seemingly surprising herself about something before she picked up a rag from the bowl of water on the floor. Mida lowered her eyes to her legs, and for a moment, I thought she’d continue her defiance. But she relaxed and laid down.

The man shivered slightly, drawing Agniya’s attention away from Mida. I tried to turn toward them from where I was sitting, but pain shot from the wound up through my spine. I tensed up and grunted, causing Vedran to rush over to me.

“I’m fine.” That didn’t seem to convince him or Agniya, who insisted I just sit still. I tried to lie back on the cot, but about halfway down, my back muscles spasmed and I crashed into the ground. I think I passed out after that, because I don’t really remember much. That was probably for the best, though. I would have tried to go back out and help them, as soon as Agniya bandaged up my wound.


	18. Embers

**October 1919**

**Hawkeye**

We were headed back to Ishval. It had been a few days since we got the news, and Parliament held an emergency session to discuss the best course of action. When the fuhrer proposed that he go down to deal with the situation directly, everyone immediately voiced their support. I understood there was no one better prepared to deal with this than him, but he was also more emotionally involved than just about any other soldier. Protocol forced us to bring a squad of military police with us, which did absolutely nothing to assuage his nerves. Breda and Fuery had opted to come, as well.

The first few hours on the train were filled with plans and discussions of what to do once we arrived. Everyone agreed the first thing was to find Miles and Havoc and learn more about the situation. It was one thing to hear about over the phone and through reports, but a whole different thing to talk about it with someone who was there. Then the discussion turned to what to do with the rioters. Breda and Fuery went back and forth with each other, going through the debate that had been going through my, and probably the fuhrer’s, head over and over. Mustang dropped out of the conversation, and for a while, they didn’t seem to notice. Eventually, they looked over at him and caught the gist of his thoughts. Breda gave me a significant nod and escorted Fuery out into the train to ‘stretch their legs.’

Once they were gone, Mustang’s shoulders slumped. Now, we had a large chunk of time that wasn’t spent rushing back and forth from the communications office or parliament. We couldn’t run from it any longer. He linked his fingers together and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I don’t know if I can do this.” he said. I was a bit surprised that he was opening up to me like this. It had been over a month since our last exchange. He sighed, looking even more tired than before.

“I know, sir.” For several minutes, we just sat there, both feeling the hopeless weight of the situation. There was no way in hell we were going to start another war in Ishval, but we needed to be firm with the people responsible for attacking the military.

“I need … I need Hughes.” he whispered. When I looked at him, all I saw was a broken man forced into a situation that was more than he could handle. I stared down at my hands, hating that I couldn’t help him. I wasn’t enough. I had no ideas for how to handle what was happening and I couldn’t even talk to him. What had changed in the last month, when I used to be able to say the right thing to him to pull him out of these moods?

I nearly jumped when his hand covered mine. He was attempting to smile at me. “Thank you, lt. colonel, for giving me space.”

Looking into his eyes, my chest was doing funny things, and I smiled back. “Of course, sir. And you don’t have to know how to handle this, yet. We haven’t gotten there or talked to anyone.” I felt a bridge building over the ravine that had grown between us. Suddenly, I remembered how to help him through this. “You don’t have to figure this out all on your own, you know. You have plenty of people who support you, and more who want to resolve this peacefully.” His smile faded in surprise at my short speech, after that awkward pause before. My smile grew as I huffed at his reaction.

He withdrew his hand and straightened up in his seat. “I really don’t know what I would do without you.” His voice was stronger and more confident, a sign that he was overcoming his fears.

“You would never get your paperwork done in time,” I joked. “So how do you want to handle this?” I asked, knowing that he was ready to breach the subject without his history holding him back.

We bounced ideas back and forth for several minutes before Breda and Fuery came back. Fuery shot me a grin when he saw how the fuhrer’s mood had lifted. They sat down and joined in on our conversation, much more hopeful for the outcome.

* * *

**Kaliq**

“But Mustang himself is coming to deal with Osman! We can trust him to avoid another war.” Kammani argued. The council was divided in their response to the military’s response to Osman’s riot. Faiza and Karimi both wanted as little extra military involvement as possible. They wanted Miles and Havoc to deal with it by themselves. Ismat wanted the military to stay out of it and let the council handle Osman’s punishment, to strengthen Ishval’s autonomy. Cemal seemed to be swinging back and forth, which only added to the confusion. Elyakim- _malim_ had stayed quiet, only adding a comment when someone asked about the facts of the riot. Mida was present this time, but she just seemed confused and cowed by the authority of the elders. I was having trouble keeping my temper. Yes, it was important that we met to discuss this before Mustang arrived, but the council didn’t seem to be reacting very rationally. It was our job to guide the Ishvallan people, but how could we do so without agreeing on a direction.

Tensions continued to rise in the room, along with voices. Finally, Elyakim- _malim_ stood up and walked out. Everyone else just stared after him in astonishment. For him to do something that could be taken as rude was unheard of, at least for me. His departure seemed to snap everyone out of their heated state.

Ismat turned to me. “Kaliq, you have not given your opinion on this. You bore great anger toward the Amestrians after the war, and you have a close relationship with the military now. What do you think we should do?”

I was honored that he would invite me to speak. During my first council meeting, he had openly disapproved of my presence because of my relationship with the military. I thought about his question for a moment, calming myself simultaneously. “You all have good points. The act was done by an Ishvallan, and a minority of our people agree with him. We normally act as the judicial system for Ishvallans, and so there is a case to be made for handling this on our own. However, they attacked the military base and Amestrian soldiers. It is Ishvalla’s way that those offended can seek justice, mediated by the council. Then, there is the concern that Osman’s actions may spark another war. Amestris and Ishval have a unique history and an unsteady relationship. The riot is much bigger than Osman and his followers, or the council, or even the military.”

“Get to the point.” Karimi interjected. He wasn’t known to be patient.

I nodded. “I think that we should trust Mustang. He was here during the war; he helped rebuild our country after the coup. He will not try to take power away from us. That said, I think we need to offer our assistance to the military, Col. Miles as well as the fuhrer. We need to make it clear we do not support Osman. I know we’ve communicated with them in the past about this, but everything has changed now. We do not want a war.”

Kammani was smiling at me, as was Faiza. Ismat and Karimi seemed to be listening, but I couldn’t gauge their reactions.

“Well spoken.” I turned to see Elyakim- _malim_ in the doorframe. He came back in and sat down.

Cemal crossed his arms. “What was that about?”

My master shrugged. “We needed a change of pace, and I was getting warm from the fire.” His smile was enigmatic, as usual, but I was grateful.

Mida laughed quietly, which broke up the heaviness in the atmosphere. We then had a civil, productive conversation about how to approach Miles and express our intentions. The meeting went on for another half hour before Kammani protested about her sore back. She asked Cemal to escort her back to her home, effectively ending the meeting.

Mida and I went back to my home, both of us feeling a renewed sense of purpose. As I pushed Mida along in the chair, she shifted her legs back and forth, which she was prone to do. She insisted this strengthened her leg muscles, but it just looked like she really had to use the restroom.

As we passed the site of the Kanda Gathering House, Mida asked to stop. She stood up on her own, which made me rush forward to stand next to her. She looked up at the construction efforts for several minutes without moving or speaking.

“We’re focusing on the wrong thing,” she said. “We’re so caught up in tiptoeing around Osman’s riot that we aren’t looking for the Wardens.” I looked at her, concerned that she was getting angry, but I couldn’t see her expression in the shadow from the streetlamp. I could hear her sobs a few seconds later. She turned to face me and fell against my chest, her legs giving out. I wrapped my arms around her and just held her while she cried.

“Why can’t they just leave us alone?” she whispered.

I tightened my arms. “I don’t know.”

* * *

**Hawkeye**

Havoc met us at the train station with a car waiting for the four of us and trucks for the others. He saluted us, his eyes hard and tired. He looked like he hadn’t smiled in a while. The fuhrer held out his hand for a handshake, an unusually formal gesture between the two of them. When Havoc took his hand, Mustang said. “Thank you, Havoc.” The sincere admiration in his voice made all of us study his expression. Havoc sort of smiled, reminiscent of our early days in Ishval, before order 3066. But the fuhrer’s words seemed to make a difference, because he relaxed a bit in the car.

“The infirmary is overflowing,” he was explaining. “It’s not that there are that many injured, although there are quite a few. The soldiers don’t have anywhere to stay. Thanks to Osman’s influence, any tent that gets set up gets pelted with rocks. A few Ishvallans have opened their homes, but most of the soldiers don’t feel comfortable staying with them after the riot.”

“But you have Osman in custody, right?” Mustang asked.

Havoc shrugged. “Well, yeah, but he sort of inspired a lot of Ishvallans to act against us. I don’t know, chief. Between trying to get our feet back under us and fending off the odd Ishvallan, we’re pretty exhausted.”

“Any word from the Council of Elders?” I asked.

“They came to talk to Col. Miles earlier today. They offered their full cooperation and said they wanted Osman to face judgement.” He rolled down the window of the car and looked out into the desert. It was changing him like it had changed us. When it was all of us together, in a relatively peaceful time, we sort of kept each other sane. But Havoc had come out here alone, for his first command, and it had been anything but peaceful.

By this point, we could see what was left of the base, surrounded by the town, in the distance. I felt a pang in my chest as I looked. That was our home for almost five years. That was where we recovered from the Promise Day and really started changing this country for the better. Now, it was nothing but ash. How ironic. I looked at the fuhrer to make sure he was hanging in there, and I saw traces of his despair from a few hours ago.

Fuery noticed it as well. “You okay, sir?” His big eyes behind even bigger glasses made him look much younger and more innocent than he really was. That was good, sometimes, though. He made people feel better just by being around them.

Mustang smiled and looked down. “It’s just a little ironic, how everything that was ever a good memory somehow gets turned to ash.” Everyone tensed up at his words. I know I had been thinking the same thing, but he was saying it out loud.

I forced myself to relax and smile. “Not everything, sir.” Judging by Havoc’s raised eyebrow at my comment, the jokes about us would come back with zeal. But it was worth it, when Mustang looked at me, his eyes wide. Breda and Fuery smiled, too. It was nice, having most of our little family back together.

Looking back at Havoc, I asked. “How’s Falman?”

He sighed. “He hurt his leg during the riot, but he’s okay. It’d be fun to go see him, altogether, at some point.”

“How did he get hurt?” Breda asked. He and Falman were closer to each other than they were to the rest of us, and I felt a little guilty that we hadn’t asked about Falman earlier.

“He was trying to put the fire out, at the base, and a chunk of the roof fell on him. Not a large chunk,” he added when he saw our faces. “Just a little plank. But it was on fire, and his pants caught.” Havoc looked out the window again, just staring into the desert.

“We’ll go pay him a visit after we talk to Miles.” Mustang said, reminding us that Ishval was not our home anymore. We were here on business.

* * *

**Kaliq**

Miles had asked me to be there when Mustang and his team arrived. He thought an Ishvallan should be present in the welcoming committee, as he put it. I had been waiting in the lobby with Miles when a soldier came running in, holding his arm tightly and gasping.

“Sir! The Western Patrol is currently engaged with someone we believe to be a Warden.” The soldier obviously didn’t care that he was announcing this to a room filled with people, not all of whom were in the military. Miles face slowly grew with surprise as he processed this information.

“Where?” He asked tersely.

“The road coming in from the train station. We think he was waiting to ambush the reinforcements.” He meant Mustang. There was a Warden waiting to ambush Mustang.

“Thank you. Doctor!” Miles called behind him for a doctor and then gestured to two soldiers to follow him. “Kaliq, you too.” Without saying anything else, he walked outside. I rushed to follow him, aware of the many eyes on my back. What right did I, a civilian, an Ishvallan, have to go with them?

Within a few minutes, we could hear shouting and something that sounded like thunder. “Alchemy.” I whispered. Miles and the others heard me and cursed. Then I could see the glow of the transmutation just beyond a small mound. Miles motioned to stop the car and we proceeded the rest of the way on foot.

The alchemist was a large man, with a full beard and glasses. I remembered what Osman had said, the night he came across the Wardens. This must be the same person. I said as much to Miles, who nodded.

“Kaliq, see if you can get Havoc on the radio. The signal is sketchy out here, but do your best. Stay back near the car.”

I was very confused. “If you asked me to come along, why tell me to stay back?”

He shot me the look of a man who was tired of dealing with nonsense. “I want a witness from the Ishvallans.” I became angry at his words. He was using me to foster a better relationship, without telling me about his plans beforehand. He was dragging me off into the desert, into a combative situation, without making sure I was armed, and asking me to watch. But I had no choice but to follow his orders.

I picked up the radio inside the car and started calling for Lt. Col. Havoc. After several tries with nothing but static, I walked forward to get a better look at the conflict.

The alchemist had his hands in the air, the tattooed “W” inside a circle clearly visible on his right hand. On his left, there was a transmutation circle. Miles and the other two were approaching him, their guns raised. Miles stopped a few feet away as one of them moved to arrest him.

From behind me, I heard a gunshot, and then the alchemist fell to the ground. I whipped around, looking for the source, but I saw nothing but desert and the town in the distance.


	19. Ash

**October 1919**

**Hawkeye**

Fuhrer Mustang had ordered Breda and me to help with the investigation about the Warden alchemist. He still carried his pocket watch around, which helped us identify him. He was a state alchemist by the name of Enzo Matheson, called the Oil Alchemist. We spent a day searching the area around the attack, trying to find evidence of the sniper, but we found nothing. Whoever it was, they cleaned up pretty thoroughly.

Mustang himself asked Miles to bring him directly to the Council of Elders to discuss the riot. I had wanted to go with him, especially considering Matheson had just tried to at least injure him, but he was adamant that I stay behind. “You are the best sniper in Amestris. They could use your eyes.”

I almost disobeyed his order and followed him to the base. But as I was turning to go, after he had gotten into a car and driven off, Havoc put his hand on my arm.

“He’ll be all right, Hawkeye,” he said, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. “We really could use your help here. Besides, you are at a rank now that gives you more authority. We aren’t his lieutenants anymore, and that means we have more responsibility to our state.”

I was feeling a little surly at the time. “In case you haven’t noticed, Havoc, he _is_ our state.”

Havoc shrugged and turned to talk to the other soldiers around. He had a point about our ranks, now, though. We were lieutenant colonels. When Mustang was a lieutenant colonel, he didn’t have specific subordinates, but he was in charge during several local operations. Maybe, considering the distance that had grown between us, getting my own command and protecting him through them wouldn’t be a bad idea. I just couldn’t imagine it. I couldn’t imagine not following just two steps behind him through the halls of Central or pestering him about his paperwork or going through various reports for him to find the ones of higher priority. I had been separated from him before, under the pretense of furthering my own status, and I didn’t think I could do it again.

I turned my attention back to the task at hand and scoured the desert for any trace of the attacker for the next several hours. Eventually, Havoc called it off for the day, and we returned to Ishval.

When we arrived, Mustang and Fuery were sitting in the lobby of the infirmary, laughing with a few of the Ishvallans we had met before. One of them was the younger man from the Council of Elders, Cemal. The fuhrer saw us enter and gestured for us to come over. “They’ve brought us some food, if you’re hungry.” He had his charming smile on, a complete turnaround from when he left us.

Havoc paused for a second before relaxing. “Thanks, chief. I’m starving.” He sat on the arm of a couch, next to a teenage boy wearing a sling and grabbed a pastry from the tin on the coffee table. Breda and I stood there, taking in the scene. We had to report on our investigation, which concerned the fuhrer’s safety, and then there was the whole riot issue. I had been so worried about him, about how he would handle all of this. And here he was, just hanging out, eating pastries.

One of the Ishvallans, Fadil, saw my expression and nudged his neighbors into silence. Mustang, noticing their change in behavior, turned back to me and recognition flashed across his face.

“If you’ll excuse me for a minute.” He motioned for me to follow him to the other, less populated, side of the room. I wish we’d been able to go into a separate room, but there just wasn’t enough space. As it was, a woman holding a small infant sat a few feet from where we were standing.

“What’s the matter, lt. colonel?” Mustang asked, completely unaware of the cause of my anger.

I raised my eyebrows. “Sir, we’ve just returned from an important investigation concerning your life, during which time you were supposed to be talking with Miles and the Council about the riot, and then we find you chatting with some random people, most of them civilians, eating pastries?” I kept my voice barely above a whisper, really wishing I could just tear into him.

Mustang sighed and brought his hand up to his neck. “I did talk with Miles, and Cemal was there, too. I heard what the Council thinks and Miles and I will be meeting with them tomorrow morning. And it’s important to be approachable and show a friendly face in times like this.” He met my eyes. “I thought you’d approve of that.”

Everything he said did give me some reassurance, but my anger didn’t dissipate. “Your life is still in danger, sir. The alchemist was specifically going after the car you were in.”

“Not necessarily. Unless you found something in the investigation, he could have been destroying the one road traversable by vehicles to and from the train station.”

How could he be so dense? “On the day you were supposed to arrive? Minutes before we reached that spot? And how would you know what we found during the investigation when you haven’t talked to us about it yet?”

Havoc came over at that point. “Everything ok? You guys seem a little tense.”

The fuhrer smiled sheepishly at him. “Yeah. Lt. Col. Hawkeye just thinks I’m not taking the investigation about the alchemist seriously enough.”

Havoc shot me a strange questioning look, but then it passed. “Give her a break, sir. She’s just worried about your safety. We all are, but it’s her job.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “No one is going to come after him here. There are too many soldiers around who are deeply invested in his well-being. Damn.” He smiled. “I’ve missed seeing you two squabble like this.” Turning back to the group they’d just left, he said, “I think they’re pulling out the chess board in a minute, if you’re interested, sir.” He gave Mustang a look that clearly said ‘I got this.’ I was not even a little calmed by his words, and that patronizing look just made it worse.

As soon as Mustang was out of earshot, I turned on Havoc. “How _dare_ you treat me like that?”

Havoc’s smile had completely disappeared, and he turned to me with a mixture of concern and gravity. “This is about more than the investigation or the riot, isn’t it? There’s something different going on between the two of you.” His blue eyes were direct, making me raise the walls around my heart.

“There’s nothing going on. And even if there were, it isn’t your job to mediate between the two of us.” I glanced back to Mustang, desperate to get away from Havoc’s eyes. “He does need to take this latest action of the Wardens more seriously.”

“He is taking it seriously. I know you’ve noticed the number of uninjured soldiers in here. You think they’re in here because they want to be? That they don’t have other work to do? Something’s really bothering you, if you missed that.”

I had noticed the soldiers, but I hadn’t really thought about why they were there. I didn’t want to let on that he was right, shaking my head slightly. “It’s not enough.”

Havoc groaned. “Come on, Hawkeye, just talk to me. You two seemed okay in the car. Is this about Mrs. Hughes?”

My face froze in shock and for a moment, I couldn’t respond. He took this to be a yes. “I was surprised to hear about that. She doesn’t really seem like his type. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.”

I shot him daggers. “I was the one who set them up.” I figured Havoc could know that part, as he was in our inner circle. Clearance Level Yellow, he used to say.

His jaw dropped. “No way. _You_ did that?!” His voice rose above a comfortable level and the others glanced toward us. I winced.

“Please keep your voice down. Most people don’t know that.”

“But _why_?” His voice was quieter, but still enough to make me uncomfortable.

“There had been rumors that he wasn’t fit to be fuhrer because of his marital status, and I know she’s capable of putting all that to rest. It was good for her, too. She could use the support.”

Havoc seemed to only hear part of that. “They’re getting _married?!_ ”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I don’t know. That’s up to them.”

“But you … and he …” Havoc sputtered a bit.

“You’re taking this pretty hard, Havoc. Some people might get the wrong idea.” I teased, letting a smile hide just below the surface, just enough for him to notice.

“Now hang on. Don’t go putting this on me. How can you set him up with someone else, especially in a serious relationship, when you feel the way you do?”

Rolling my eyes, I said, “I’ve told you countless times. I don’t feel that way.”

“Right.” He smirked. “You were just angry at him because of the investigation, which both of us have explained away, so now you’re completely fine. Okay, Hawkeye. Whatever. I’m gonna go back to the real world and finish my food.” He walked off, leaving me in the corner.

I lowered my head, trying to figure out why I was still angry. I was being irrational, not entirely, but enough that I shouldn’t still feel like this. Maybe it did have something to do with Gracia. Not what Havoc suggested, but there had been tension between us ever since then. Maybe I was just reacting to that.

I needed to clear my head, so I walked outside, feeling the warm, dry air play with my short hair.

* * *

**Kaliq**

The morning after the fuhrer and his troops arrived, we were all sitting in a circle in the Gunja Gathering House - Miles, Mustang, Hawkeye, and Havoc were the only Amestrians at the meeting, as agreed. I was honestly surprised when Ismat and Karimi agreed to let Hawkeye sit in. But then I remembered how Hawkeye had spoken to Ismat on several occasions, possibly more than anyone else in this gathering. I suppose he respected her as a soldier.

My master stood to welcome everyone with the traditional greeting. “ _Ahlan wa sahlan, dosenuq_.” To the Amestrians, he said. “Welcome to our gathering, friends.”

Mustang bowed his head as he answered. “You are most gracious, Elyakim- _malim_.” I could see Kammani smile at this.

My master continued, “Let me introduce the Council of Elders to you.” I know for a fact that Mustang knew every member of the Council by heart, but going through these formalities was just as much an act of unity as anything else we would discuss. “This is Kammani, a respected leader in the community. This is Cemal, Father of the temple in Kanda. This is Karimi, head of the Mashra family. This is Ismat, commander of the now-dispersed Dalihan militia. This is Mida, another respected leader in the community. And this is Kaliq, our liaison to the Amestrian military.” Mustang smiled and nodded at me in greeting. I dipped my head in response. “And now,” my master sat back down in his spot in the circle, “let us begin.”

For the first hour, we discussed the facts of the riot - the events that transpired directly before the protest, the number of people that gathered, the time of day. I relayed what I had heard of Osman’s speech. Mustang closed his eyes when he heard what Osman had said about him, specifically. Mida talked about what she had seen from the sidelines, after I had rushed back into the crowd. Cemal spoke about the many Ishvallans who tried to stop the riot and put out the fire. I felt guilty that I had not helped, touching the bandages on my side. The wound still twinged, and I still had no idea how it got there.

Then, Havoc and Miles talked about the damages to the buildings and the number of casualties. Three soldiers had died, two in the first few hours, and the other later that evening. There were 53 soldiers who needed long-term care, and an unknown number of others with minor injuries. Among the Ishvallans, one died during the riot, and 71 had sought treatment in the infirmary. Again, that number was probably much lower than the true total.

Ismat leaned forward. “What about Osman’s condition?” Havoc looked off to the side, but the rest didn’t move an inch.

“He suffered a minor head wound and a few other minor injuries. He is being held in an office in the infirmary.” Miles spoke directly and without hesitation, but the air was significantly thicker than it had been. I felt Mida stiffen beside me, and I put my hand on my arm to steady her. She had insisted on sitting on the ground, so her chair was in the corner of the room.

“And what is it that you intend for him?” Faiza asked, in a subtly accusatory tone. Kammani was frowning at her, but Faiza ignored her.

Mustang answered, “That is what I hoped to discuss with you.” It seemed as if he’d been waiting for this to come up before saying anything. “I understand that you have your own judicial system. I know that you understand that the crimes he and his followers committed were against the military. What I propose is that he be tried according to Ishvallan custom, but that Miles and I be included in that process. We will represent the military as the plaintiff. You will decide a fitting punishment for him.” I had suspected that he would do something like this. Looking at the others, I could see Ismat’s eyebrows raised and Faiza nodding. Kammani and Cemal were smiling. I looked down at Mida, who was watching the others, waiting to hear what they said.

Karimi asked, “What if you do not agree with our decision?”

Mustang calmly turned to him. “It is not our decision. If we disagree with what you have decided, we must learn to accept it.”

Karimi narrowed his eyes. “Then why did you bring the military police?”

Mustang’s face grew hard as he and Karimi measured each other up. I could feel a crack forming in the facade of the other three soldiers who could tell the tide was turning. “The military police are here because that is what Amestrian protocol demands when a violent protest occurs within our borders. I also wish to assist Lt. Col. Havoc in his investigation of the Wardens. They may be here because of the riot, but they will not interfere with the Ishvallan people outside of the investigation.”

“And we have your word on that?” Karimi asked.

“Yes, on my word as Fuhrer.” For a moment, he and Karimi just stared at each other, a silent battle of wills. Finally, Karimi closed his eyes and bowed his head.

“Those who sided with Osman will not be happy to see more soldiers. Some of those who hadn’t previously sided with Osman might be swayed because of them. You are responsible for their actions while they are here. You are also responsible for the repercussions of their presence. The next riot that happens is on you, Mustang.”

“I understand, Karimi- _malim_. I take full responsibility for their actions.” I looked to the man I thought I had known. I had a sense that he was so much more than he appeared, as if his arms stretched further than they reached and his muscles could hold more than he could lift. His face reminded me of that conversation we’d had last year, when he revealed his plans to me. This was not Mustang’s face. This was the face of the Fuhrer.


	20. Phoenix

**October 1919**

**Kaliq**

After the meeting ended, I helped Mida back into her chair and began the walk back to my house. We didn’t say much on the way back, mostly thinking to ourselves about what had just happened. I knew Karimi had strongly opposed a stronger military presence in Ishval, but his words to Mustang were harsher than any of us expected. We turned the corner from the main street onto where I lived, and there were two people waiting for us.

Mustang waved as we approached. “Hello Kaliq, Mida. I was hoping to talk to you, if you have a minute.” Hawkeye smiled warmly at us, standing as she always did, two steps behind him.

I nodded as Mida greeted them. As they followed me into the house, Mustang asked, “How have things been going around here?”

“Before the riot, the reconstruction was going fairly well. We were still dealing with a few accidents, now and then, but nothing major.” I helped Mida maneuver onto one of the mats on the floor.

“Havoc’s been keeping us informed about the investigation.” As Mustang spoke, I gestured for them to sit on the mats and they took their usual spots. “How long have you and Mida been on the Council?”

Mida answered, “I have only attended two meetings, including this one. Kaliq has been going for a few weeks, since the Gathering House was attacked.”

Hawkeye jumped in, “I heard you were there when it happened. How are you doing?” Her previously stoic demeanor turned soft as she leaned in to hear Mida’s response.

Mida seemed a little surprised by her attention. “I’m recovering well. I’m able to walk a little bit, which is sooner than the doctors told me I should expect that. Kaliq has been very helpful, Agniya and Cemal, too.”

“I think Agniya pushes you a little too much.” I interrupted, reiterating a point I’d made to both of them several times before.

Mida rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Just because I fell down one time, he won’t stop worrying.”

Mustang raised his eyebrows and tried to hold back a smirk as he looked back to me. I tried to ignore him, not wanting to indulge his ideas, no matter how accurate they might have been. He changed his face back into a more pleasant expression and said, “You’re lucky to have such a supporting family.” His eyes flicked back to me. I glanced over to Mida, whose smile was full of warmth.

Looking back to Mustang, I asked, “How have your first few months as fuhrer been?”

He sighed heavily, letting his shoulders sink. “Busy. Lonely, as well. Most of my team has been reassigned, except for Lt. Col. Hawkeye. We still get together regularly, but it isn’t the same as sharing an office. Especially compared to the headquarters here.” His wry smile faded. “You were both there, right?” We nodded. “One of my own men was injured.”

“Lt. Falman?” Mida asked.

Mustang grimaced and Hawkeye answered in his stead. “A burning piece of timber fell on him when he was trying to put out the fire. His leg is badly burned, but he should recover well.”

“I’m more worried about the Ishvallans who aren’t receiving treatment because of the tension between the military and the civilians.” Mustang growled.

“Oh, Agniya and a few others have been helping them. The biggest problem with the tension is that the Ishvallans are afraid of retaliation. It’s not that they’re being turned away; they are too scared to go to the infirmary.” Mida tried to reassure him, for which she was given a small nod and smile.

“What is the mood in Central?” I asked.

“About the riot?” I nodded in response. “Most people want to avoid another war, considering everything else we’ve got on our plate right now. But then, there are a few people who think that a show of force is the only way to end this. Fortunately, they’re the minority, even if a very loud minority.” Mustang had a different tone when he spoke business like this. His voice had a tone of authority that wasn’t present in most of our conversations.

Mida shifted so that she was sitting up straighter. “I don’t mean to overstep, but the riot is a by-product of the Wardens. They need to be the focus right now, before anything else happens.” She did much better in one-on-one conversations, rather than large groups like the Council.

Mustang nodded. “The investigation is now my top priority. All of the soldiers that came with me will be working on that, and I’ve talked to Lt. Col. Havoc about a more aggressive approach. Col. Miles is also focusing more on that, investigating the military itself to find the Wardens within the military.”

Mida did not seem quite satisfied. “What about you?”

“I have done what I can.” He sounded less sure of himself. “As the fuhrer, I don’t have the liberty to devote all my energy to this. I will be here for the trial, but I have to make sure that my work in Central doesn’t fall behind.” I could hear the strain in his voice and understood that he was a man who preferred to do the work himself rather than delegate it and wait.

“How are your projects in Central progressing?” I asked, giving him some respite from the obviously distressing subject.

“Fairly well. Changing the system from the inside is slow going, even when you’re in charge of it. Parliament is currently working on the democratic process for their own elections. There was some disagreement over the last part about having to retire or resign from the military before running for office. But we’re-” Someone knocked on the doorframe.

I got up and pushed the curtain back to see Capt. Breda with a hardened expression. “Hey, Kaliq. Is Fuhrer Mustang with you?” He usually spent more time on pleasantries. He also wasn’t known to come to my house. Something was up.

“Yes, he and Lt. Col. Hawkeye are here. Come in.” I stepped aside to let him enter. He nodded in greeting to Mida before turning to his superiors.

Pulling an envelope from his coat, he said, “We received this letter for you, sir. It looked suspicious, so Havoc checked it to make sure there was nothing dangerous inside. You need to see this.” He handed him the letter, acting like his muscles were tightly-coiled springs.

Mustang pulled the letter out of the envelope, scanning it quickly, his eyes widening. “Where did you get this?”

“Col. Miles said it was found among the unclaimed personal effects from the barracks. We think someone planted it there for us to find.” I helped Mida back into her chair, as the conversation was clearly over.

Mustang turned to us. “I’m sorry about this, but we need to get back to the infirmary.”

“Of course.” I answered. Mida smiled at both of them as they stood up. They followed Breda out, talking about how the letter was found. It was obvious that he had enemies in Ishval, considering the alchemist who had tried to attack them yesterday, but this seemed like an inside job. My heart grew heavy again. What was in that letter?

* * *

**Hawkeye**

We all gathered in Lt. Falman’s room to discuss the letter. Falman himself was propped up in the bed, adopting his usual stern expression. Havoc and Fuery stood near the door, with Miles and Breda next to the window. The fuhrer sat next to Falman with me standing by his side.

“This is a threat on my life,” he said. I had suspected as much, as did we all, judging by the lack of reaction. “Strangely enough, it has nothing to do with Ishval. Whoever it is seems to be more upset by my actions in Central.” He turned his head toward Havoc and Fuery. “You read this, Havoc?”

“Yes, sir.”

The fuhrer nodded. “I would rather as few people read this as possible. Of those of you in this room, only myself and Havoc will know the exact contents.”

I felt anger building up inside myself again. He never shut me out of things like this. “Sir, we need to be able to protect you.”

He shot me a glance, seemingly annoyed that I was questioning him. “I will tell you the most important parts, but I want you all to be as objective as possible when handling this. Some of the phrases are provocative and we all need to keep our heads clear.” I continued to stare him down, protesting every word he said.

Miles cleared his throat. “So how do you want us to handle this?”

Fuhrer Mustang looked down at his hands. “I can’t handle this properly without my resources in Central.” He grimaced. “I also can’t leave Ishval until after the trial is finished. I have to be here.”

“Sir, the only people who even know about the trial at this point, let alone your involvement in it, are the Ishvallan Council,” Breda said. He had a point, but we had a hard enough time with the Council as it was. The fuhrer’s unfocused eyes suggested he was thinking along the same lines.

“Perhaps you should talk to them.” Falman shifted slightly. “They are all reasonable people, even if they don’t all like Amestrians.” Considering how our last talk with them had gone, I wasn’t convinced that they would be reasonable enough to let Mustang leave Ishval right now. Reasonable or not, though, it was necessary. We couldn’t protect him enough here.

“You’re right, Falman. I won’t tell all of them, to keep this quiet, but maybe we could talk to Elyakim.”

Miles gave a grunt of discontent. “Yes, colonel?” I asked. He wasn’t a part of our team and he didn’t know how we worked. If we had a problem, we said so. I wondered if he had ever grunted like that at Gen. Armstrong.

“Elyakim usually presents himself as a neutral party between the two sides of the Council, but you might garner more trust if you talked to someone less in favor of the military.”

Havoc started, “Look, yeah, we want to strengthen the relationship between the Ishvallans and the military, but I don’t know if we should use something like this to do that. I mean, -”

“Hang on.” The fuhrer had his eyes trained on Miles, working things out in his mind. “Col. Miles is right. I could talk to Shazad Ismat. He’s a military-minded man who isn’t fond of the Amestrian presence here. But he’s reasonable and conscious of what it takes to lead. What do you think?” He directed his question to Miles alone, who nodded slowly.

“That should work, but you would have to go to him. He won’t agree to meet in here.”

Mustang nodded. “That’s fine. As long as he’ll agree to meet.” Reaching toward me, I pulled out my notebook and a pen for him. He scribbled down a note and ripped out the page carefully, folding it over and handing it to Breda. “Deliver this to Ismat personally.” Considering Breda’s first-hand experience with the Council from when he worked with them on logistics, he was a good choice for the job. It just frustrated me that we couldn’t take action immediately. We needed to get the fuhrer somewhere more secure with soldiers specifically trained for security. But no matter the danger to himself, he would always use every opportunity presented to him to reach his goals. At the moment, that was helping Ishval.

After a few tense hours inside the infirmary, most of which was spent getting everything I could about the letter out of the fuhrer, Breda returned. Miles and Fuery had left to keep doing their regular work - Fuery had been asked to help repair some of the communication equipment. The rest of us stilled when Breda entered.

“He wants to meet as soon as possible in his own home. It’s on the eastern edge of Kanda, almost in Wahir.”

The fuhrer nodded and stood. “Did he say anything about an escort?”

“No, sir.”

“All right.” He turned to us. “Lt. Breda and Lt. Col. Hawkeye, you two will accompany me. I’d rather not bring anyone else along.” He looked at me when he asked, “Is that acceptable to you?” His voice was strangely bitter.

If Breda noticed, he didn’t say anything as he saluted. I followed suit and answered, “Sir.” It was not what I would have liked, but I could handle it. I was tired of fighting.

He nodded again. “Then I’m entrusting my back to you.” He said that with none of us usual familiarity, like he was saying it out of habit without really meaning it. What was happening to us?

* * *

**Kaliq**

Mustang and Hawkeye left the day after they visited us. The official excuse was that a problem had arisen with the negotiations between Drachma and Amestris that the fuhrer needed to resolve. Ismat explained the real reason to the Council. Karimi was clearly angry at him for leaving, but everyone else supported his decision. We set the start date for Osman’s trial to be in a week, and then there was nothing to do but wait. Our entire lives had been turned upside down in the past few days, but we still had to perform our mundane tasks. I needed to air out the linens in my home.

I took down the curtain at the entrance to my home to better beat the dust from the bottom. Toby barked incessantly as I smacked the fabric, aggravated by the sound. He was almost fully-grown now and felt the need to challenge my dominance over the home. He nipped at the curtain once or twice before backing off and jumping around it like a dueling opponent. I heard Mida laughing and turned to see that she had walked into the room, leaning against the wall and a cane for support. I went to put the curtain down on the table, and my back seized. I dropped it and groaned, catching myself on the table so I didn’t fall. Agniya had said I probably gotten hurt from someone waving a pair of shears around during the riot. Most of the time, I didn’t notice it, but every now and then I would twist in just the right way and …

Toby rushed forward, putting his front paws up on the bench. He had stopped barking, his body on full alert. He certainly inherited Black Hayate’s protective nature. Mida gasped and asked, “Are you all right?”

It still twinged a bit, but I gingerly pushed myself up off the table, stopping every time I felt it pull. “Yes,” I said after a few moments. “I just pulled on it wrong, I think.” I turned to face her, using my feet to turn my torso, rather than my waist, just to be safe. She was hobbling toward me.

“No, that’s not necessary.” I reached toward her to give her extra support. She took my hand and let me lead her to the bench. Toby trotted out of the way. He always respected Mida’s space, but never mine.

She chuckled. “We make a great pair, you with your back and me with my legs.” I smiled, rubbing my thumb over her hand. She pulled her hand away to pick up the curtain. “I can handle this, if you want to rest for a minute.”

I frowned. “You shouldn’t strain yourself.” But she waved me off.

“I can do this sitting down. Besides, Toby will help me.” She leaned toward the dog, who perked up and stuck his nose onto her lap. Why was he always so calm around her, when I couldn’t get him to quit jumping up on me?

“Suit yourself.” I said, sitting down on the bench. It did feel nice to sit down and give my back a chance to relax. I sighed and closed my eyes for a second, but then Mida shoved something in my hand. Opening my eyes again, I saw a corner of the curtain.

Looking to her for an explanation, she smiled sheepishly. “I needed the extra tension to get to all of it.” She raised the stick and started beating it in rhythm, brushing off the dust that came loose and settled again. Watching her concentrate, I thought about how nice it was, to do something so simple and mundane with her. I imagined what it would look like to help her wash the bed covers or mend tears in our clothes. I remembered when she and Agniya had worked together, dyeing Vedran’s new sash for his upcoming birthday, when he’d start taking on the responsibilities of a man. She was laughing and flicking dye-soaked fingers at her friend while Suraya scolded them for taking it so lightly. I hardly noticed that the rhythmic beating had stopped when Mida said, “There. What do you think?”

The curtain was cleaner than I had ever gotten it on my own. I nodded, impressed. “Thank you.” Taking the rest of it from her, I stood up. I hung it up on the rod in the doorway and admired the fabric. It had been a much lighter red when I had taken it down, and you could now see the pattern on it, the sharp angles and dots. Kammani had given this to me when it had started getting cold, and it was meant to be used during winter, when it was colder. It didn’t get as cold here as it did in Amestris. I was grateful to Ishvalla for keeping his people warm.

Mida had somehow come up behind me without my noticing, so that when I turned around, I almost knocked her over. She didn’t seem to care, though, and leaned into me. I brought up my arms to surround her as she buried her head in my chest. “Is everything okay?”

She nodded, her forehead rubbing against my chest. “Seeing you put the curtain back up … I feel like I'm home.” My heart turned over and I looked down to see if she could feel it. Her eyes were closed and her face was glowing. I wanted to tell her that she made my home feel like a home, that she made me feel like I was living for something, but I couldn't get the words to come out. So I tightened my arms and just held her.


	21. Line of Fire

**October 1919**

**Hawkeye**

The train ride back was the most uncomfortable train ride I’d ever had. An hour of silence into the ride, I tried to breach the strange wall that had come between us. “Sir,” His head snapped from the window to me as I spoke. “I would like to have a look at the letter, to-”

“No.” He shut me down completely, without listening. I tried not to get frustrated and keep an open mind.

“Why are you against me looking at it?”

“Like I have said, it’s written to scare me. I want you to keep your head clear when you think about this.” He spoke with a slight growl. We’d gone through this same conversation at least four times now, but that didn’t mean I was going to let it go.

“Sir, you know very well I can keep my emotions under control, especially when it comes to things like this. What if there’s a detail you missed?” He didn’t answer, closing his eyes and lowering his head. I felt like I was talking to a brick, the way he was responding. “Please, sir. Just let me-”

“I preferred it when you were giving me space to think.” My breath caught. I stared at him for several minutes, unable to move. How could he turn what he had said before, the words that helped us open up again, into something to push us further apart? I hadn’t been giving him space; I had no idea what to do. Now, I was facing the same problem. Any anger or frustration dissipated, leaving nothing but shock and pain.

I steadied myself and stood up. “Where are you going?” he asked, shocked out of his silence.

“I’m giving you space, sir.” I said, exiting the compartment. I just needed to get away from him.

* * *

**Kaliq**

Miles had called for volunteers to rebuild the military base and barracks, and I had signed up, alongside Cemal. The first day of the project, I had woken up to find someone had spelled out TRAITOR on the side of the house in mud. Everyone who walked by seemed shocked and worried. Cemal, when he came to meet me, whistled.

“That’s going to be fun to clean off.” I shrugged. I hadn’t mentioned it to Mida yet, who was working on her morning exercises inside. I was going to be gone all day and I didn’t want her to try to do it herself.

We left shortly after Cemal got there and were among the first of the volunteers to arrive. Miles had us split into teams of five to work on various projects. For the first hour, everyone worked diligently, and for the most part, silently. Every team had at least one Ishvallan volunteer, so the soldiers didn’t quite know what to say. I was with Havoc, who tried to make light of everything we came across, but the other Ishvallan on our team, a younger woman named Yusra, didn’t seem to like him much.

“All right. We’ll stop for a water break in about ten minutes.” Havoc called out as we could just start to see what was left of the floor in our section. Then, there was a loud rumbling and shouts from the team closest to the center. We all stopped and looked up. Miles was jumping over the rubble to them, shouting orders.

“What’s going on?” Yusra asked me.

I shook my head, but one of the soldiers on our team turned pale. “Someone fell down there.” Havoc leapt up and joined Miles in the middle. He peered down into the pile of rubble and swore loud enough that we could hear him. The rest of us waited and watched. Havoc turned to Miles and the two of them started arguing about what to do next. Miles kept shaking his head while Havoc was pointing around the site, sometimes grabbing tools or trying to shift some of the rubble. He moved a particularly large piece and there was more rumbling. I heard someone, no wait, Cemal yelling “STOP!” from inside the rubble. _Oh, please Ishvalla, no._

I moved slowly toward the middle, my body and mind out of sync. Miles saw me approaching and stopped me by putting his hands on my shoulders. “Cemal fell down into the basement. He’s okay, but we can’t afford to shift the rubble to pull him out.”

I nodded in understanding, looking past Miles to the people rushing about. “Let me see.” Miles dropped his hands and led me to the hole Cemal had fallen through. It was about a fifteen-foot drop and rubble was scattered all over the floor after apparently caving into the basement. The hole he had fallen through was where an exposed section of floor tile had collapsed underneath a large slab of the ceiling. The large slab was now balanced on the floor tile on the opposite side, tilting back and forth. It was inaccessible from the other side because of the rubble surrounding it, but moving the rubble would tip it over into the hole. Anyway you looked at it, it was tricky.

Havoc rejoined us after walking around the entire scene. “If we had some way to lower the slab down slowly, Cemal might be able to use it as a ramp and climb out.”

“We can’t just use a rope?” I asked.

Miles shook his head again. “The hole isn’t that big and if he swung more than a few inches either way, he might tip the slab. And the slab is too heavy to lift with the materials we’ve got left.”

Havoc sighed and ruffled his hair. “If we had an alchemist we could do it. Guess I got spoiled in Central.”

I clenched my fists. I hadn’t thought of that. Maybe we could find Marcoh and he could do something. I turned to Miles to suggest this, but Miles was staring at me with his fingers under his chin.

“You can use alchemy, right?” His question completely blew me away. What was going on in my mind today? I held up my arms and just stared at them for a moment.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve used it, and I don’t have any training.” All I really knew how to do was destroy. I had used my other arm before, but it was clumsy. This required more delicacy than I knew.

“Could you maybe destroy it all at once? So that if any of it fell down, it’d be in smaller pieces?” Havoc crossed his arms. He’d seen my alchemy before, whereas Miles had not.

I shook my head. “It wouldn’t happen that quickly unless I was touching the other side of it directly.” I climbed over to the edge of the slab, examining it. It was simple cement, so I was familiar with it’s composition. It wouldn’t be difficult to reshape. I put my right hand on the slab, feeling it push against me. As the light emanated from my arm, Miles and Havoc started yelling at me. But it was already done. The entire slab was now a long ladder with thick rungs, long enough to reach to the bottom. The two soldiers just looked at me and then the ladder.

“Will you hurry up and lower it?” Cemal shouted from below.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

Back in Central, we immediately started an investigation into who sent that letter. Within hours, we’d connected it to the letters many members of parliament had been receiving over the past few months. No action had yet been taken against the members of parliament, despite them having received many letters, so the fuhrer thought this meant we could relax. Needless to say, I disagreed, and we had another fight that ended with me storming out. He insisted on keeping up appearances and took a walk to the train on Thursday afternoon to greet Breda and Fuery when they returned. Friday was the dinner Grumman had arranged, and I wanted to cancel. We didn’t need to have that many important people in the same room, especially considering Grumman had invited the Speaker of Parliament, Josef Duval. But I was ignored again. I was given the chance to go over security details for the night, though, for which I was grateful.

That night, I went with Fuhrer Mustang to pick up Gracia and Elicia, as an added precaution. Unfortunately, the fuhrer had gone to Grumman behind my back and they had both ordered me to wear something other than my uniform. So I was wearing the blue dress Elicia had picked out for me for the inauguration. When we stopped to get them, Elicia was obviously pleased. She was wearing a darker blue dress that shimmered but was convinced that we matched. She insisted on sitting next to me, which surprised me. I could never tell how she was going to react to me, it seemed. I distracted Elicia by talking about dress-shopping so that Gracia and the fuhrer could talk about Ishval. Of course, that meant I didn’t hear much of what they said, but Elicia’s smile did wonders for my anxiety.

When we arrived at Grumman’s estate, one of the security guards opened the doors for us. I wasn’t used to that sort of thing and mumbled an awkward thanks to him. Glancing at him, I recognized him from the list of guards that Grumman had sent me. I felt relieved, more that Grumman had not just given me a list of random soldiers to appease me than that I recognized the guard. The house itself was lit up, decorated to the nines for midwinter, which was more than a month away. A large metal fence surrounded the property, enclosing a substantial yard. This had been General Raven’s home, before the Promised Day, and after he had been listed as missing for three months, it was handed over to the military. Grumman obviously saw a use for it.

Breda, his date, Fuery, and Sheska were already inside the front hallway. They had come from work after changing in the office. Fuery waved his hand and Sheska nodded her head. Breda brought his date over to introduce her.

“Fuhrer Mustang, this is Denise. Denise, this is Fuhrer Mustang, Gracia Hughes and her daughter Elicia, and Lt. Col. Riza Hawkeye.” Denise was much shorter than Breda, only coming up to his shoulder, and Breda wasn’t tall to begin with. She looked like she had a lot of energy and very little patience, something Breda needed. If it worked out, Denise could be good for him. She put her hand out to shake hands with the fuhrer, who seemed surprised, but he took it.

“It’s very nice to meet you all,” she said. We exchanged pleasantries for a few minutes and more guests gathered. Major Armstrong arrived with his younger sister, as well as Speaker Duval and his wife, and even Brigadier General Douglas.

After several minutes, Grumman walked out of one of the rooms leading from the main hallway. His health had obviously improved in the past two weeks, and he looked much more distinguished in his suit and bowtie.

“Good evening, everybody.” He just loved being a host; it was all over his face. “I’m glad you all could make it. If you’d like to come sit in the dining room, we’ll have time to mingle over coffee and dessert.” We filed into the room and I tried to be one of the last. I just wanted to give the main hallway one more quick lookover before we left it. Just to be safe. The two guards at the door gave me a knowing look. No doubt they knew who I was.

One of them leaned over to me. “Don’t worry, Lt. Col. Hawkeye. We’ve got this room covered.” He smiled at me, which did make me feel better, until I realized I didn’t recognize him from the list Grumman had given me. Logically, I knew it was unlikely I’d remember every face, but it still bothered me. I tried to smile back and entered the room. _It’s nothing_. I told myself, over and over.

In the dining room, the glittering crystal and silver drew my attention away from the guards. This was certainly the fanciest dinner I had ever attended, and that includes the inauguration banquet. Each seat had a place card with our names on them. Grumman was at the far end of the table, while Fuhrer Mustang’s seat was right in front of the door. _That is the worst possible place for him to sit_. Looking at the position of Grumman’s chair, I thought, _But that isn’t much better with the large window_. The others were starting to sit in their places, and Grumman did an excellent job of arranging the placements. On the left side, from Grumman to Mustang, was Breda, Breda’s date, Sheska, Fuery, Gen. Douglas, and myself, directly to the left of the fuhrer. On the right side, from Grumman to Mustang, was Speaker Duval, Mrs. Duval, Major Armstrong, Catherine Armstrong, Elicia, and Gracia directly to the right of the fuhrer. I took my seat, Gen. Douglas helping me with the chair. I was a bit uncomfortable with his chivalry, although he was helpful. As the dinner progressed, I relaxed just a bit. Gen. Douglas wasn’t a bad conversation partner. Around the table, it seemed everyone was enjoying each other’s company. Grumman and Speaker Duval were discussing parliamentary procedure, Catherine was really hitting it off with Elicia and Gracia, Sheska and Fuery were discussing the latest cataloguing methods and Denise was hanging on Breda’s every word. The fuhrer would occasionally join each conversation, but he seemed to prefer to listen tonight. Frankly, I was tired of his attitudes and tried to forget about him as I talked to Gen. Douglas.

“And what has been your experience with the Ishvallans’ attitude toward Amestrians? Everyone I’ve talked to seems to have different opinions.” We’d been discussing Ishval for a few minutes.

Swallowing a piece of duck, I answered, “There are many different opinions. The majority of Ishvallans I’ve talked to are wary of the military but pleasant to Amestrians in general. And then there are extreme views on both sides.” Douglas nodded, bringing his water glass to his lips.

After he put it back down, he continued. “It seems to be the same with the refugees from the war with Aerugo as well.”

“Oh yes, I heard you’d been working in that area, but I’m afraid I don’t know much about the situation.” He rambled on about setting up temporary residential camps for those whose homes were used as a battlefield and cleaning up the trenches. I saw Fuery tense up and glance at us when he talked about the trenches, and I knew he was remembering his time down there, during the war. He’d never talked to us about it directly, referencing it sometimes when something would come up in Ishval. Luckily, Grumman interrupted Douglas before Fuery became too agitated.

“Excuse me, old man speaking.” Everyone laughed. “I’d like to propose a toast to our new Fuhrer.” He raised his glass of wine to Mustang, who wore his best smile, the one I liked the best, that was gentler than his usual expressions. “In the face of riots and regime change and all that other stuff that isn’t fun to deal with - I know, I’ve been there - you’ve done a wonderful job in leading this country. I look forward to what you’ll do in the future.” Grumman brought his glass to his lips, as did everyone else. Behind Grumman, when everyone had their heads tilted up to drink, I saw one of the guards staring into the room, his eyes moving around the table. I turned to see if anyone else saw him, but when I looked back, he was gone. Grumman put his glass down, empty, on the table.

“Now, if you all would like to-” The main door to the room opened and one of the guards rushed in.

“Sir! There’s-” I heard the sound of a suppressor on a short-range handgun and he dropped. For a moment, everyone was frozen, except for me. I had been on edge the entire evening, and seeing that guard in the window only prepared me to act. When everyone started to rise out of their chairs, I was already in front of Mustang, a gun in my hand.

Everything seemed to happen at once, snapping out of that weird slowed-down moment and into overdrive. Two gunman appeared in the doorway and opened fire. I heard the glass of the windows shattering behind me and screaming. I had no idea who had been shot as I fired right back at them until one of them dropped. Mustang was yelling at me to go for cover, but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t have enough time and dropping the gunman was more important than my own safety. That’s when I felt the focused pressure on my abdomen. But there was no pain. My aim was off, though, for reasons I couldn’t understand as I continued firing at the remaining gunman. Then my left arm dropped from its grip. The gunman stopped firing, out of bullets, and ran.


	22. Meltdown

**October 1919**

**Hawkeye**

When the gunman left the room, I stepped forward to follow them, but someone had grabbed my ankle. Looking down, I saw Gracia’s hand wrapped around my leg. She was crying as she looked at me. I looked around the room and saw that most of the guests were crouched next to or underneath the table. I turned back to Gracia.

“I need to go after him,” I explained, bending over to speak to her. As my body bent at the waist, I could see the world flipping upside down and then I crashed into the floor. I felt arms around me but I was too stunned to know who it was.

“You’ve done enough.” The fuhrer’s words whispered in my ear, and I knew that he had caught me. But why did I need catching? I looked down and over my body, checking for injuries. On my right side, my blue dress was slowly turning a deep red, and I could see a bloody hole right where my left arm connected with my shoulder. No wonder I couldn’t hold my gun properly.

“Sir, are you hurt?” I asked, trying to take a survey of the damage. The next step would be to ascertain who had been injured and get them the necessary treatment.

He shifted around me so that I could look at his face, but he kept his arms around me. If I didn’t have work to do, this would be nice. “Lt. colonel, I am not injured. You probably have the worst injuries here, considering how stupid you were being, so just worry about yourself right now.” He said I was injured, and I could see the stains on my dress, but I didn’t feel pain. Maybe it was shock.

“Mustang, I think you might be wrong about that one.” Grumman’s voice came from the other end of the room, followed by harsh coughing. My mind was back on the job, and I pushed the fuhrer away as I stood back up. The world continued to spin around me, but I needed to ensure the safety of everyone in the room.

“Hawkeye, stay down. That’s an order.” I heard the words, but I didn’t stop. Why did I need to stay down? I felt fine. I followed Mustang to where Grumman was lying on the ground, with Speaker Duval by his side. A bullet had hit his chest, just to the left of the sternum, about an inch below his heart. He had blood all around his mouth, and when he opened his mouth to speak, he just spit out blood, no words.

“I think …” Speaker Duval was shaking. “I think his lung is punctured.” Mustang examined the wound and checked him over for any other injuries.

“Are you injured?” I asked Duval. He looked at me with confusion before shaking his head. I stood up, and for the first time felt a little twinge from my abdomen. “Is anyone else hurt?”

“Here.” Armstrong’s sister called out. I moved to her, where she was sitting with her brother. Two of his fingers were mangled, probably beyond repair.

“Major Armstrong, we need to bandage them.” I glanced around the room for something suitable to wrap them in when Armstrong put his other hand on my arm.

“Please do not waste your concern on me, Lt. Col. Hawkeye. I am sure my sister is capable of taking care of me.” Looking at Catherine, I saw that she was staring at my wounds, her mouth slightly open. When she saw me looking, she gasped and turned back to her brother.

I stood back up, clutching a chair for support. “Anyone else?” I called out.

“Please, Hawkeye. You need to sit down.” Fuery had walked around the table. “We can take care of this.” Breda was walking around, helping people out from under the table and checking for injuries. Maybe Fuery was right. I tried to pull the chair out to sit down when my vision went white. Finally, I felt pain erupting from my shoulder and stomach.

“Sir! Hawkeye’s down!”

“No! Move out of the way!” My vision cleared and I could see the fuhrer’s face above mine. He was leaning over me, one of his arms propping me up and his other hand on my face. I tried to focus my eyes and give him a smile to tell him I was okay, but I don’t know if it worked. “Please, I need you. Come on, Riza, stay with me.” I couldn’t move from the pain, so I just stared at his face, going over every detail that I had come to love. My vision blurred again and I felt my arm twitch, searing pain spreading through my chest.

The last thing I remembered was Mustang lowering himself into a closer embrace, cradling my head against his chest, and whispering, “I love you.”

* * *

**Kaliq**

We got the news the day after it happened, when Miles asked for the Council to send a representative to talk to him. They had chosen me.

He sighed after closing the door behind us. “There’s been … an incident in Central.” He had my full attention, but I said nothing. He circled to his temporary desk and sat down. “Fuhrer Grumman died this morning. From what I understand, there was a party at his house and a few gunman opened fire on the guests. Lt. Col. Hawkeye is in critical condition in Central General Hospital, but Fuhrer Mustang is unharmed.”

My jaw was slack. “What?” I personally did not care about Grumman’s death, but I greatly admired Hawkeye and knew how much Mustang relied on her.

Miles grimaced. “The preliminary reports have said that at least one gunman fled the premises, but one was shot and killed at the scene. They are lucky only two people were seriously wounded.”

 _Lucky?_ I grit my teeth together. “Is this in any way related to the threats Mustang received while he was here?”

“I don’t know. It’s too soon to tell, and I don’t think the fuhrer’s mind is entirely focused right now.”

No kidding. I crossed my arms. “Are there any leads on suspects?”

“So far, they’ve determined that everyone involved was on active duty in the military.” Miles removed his sunglasses to clean them using a handkerchief in his coat pocket. He only did that when he was disturbed.

Inside the military? “I thought Mustang was recognized as a hero.”

“He is.” He put his glasses back on. “But that just means the military puts his face on recruiting posters.”

Then, I remembered. “What about Havoc and Lt. Falman?” Mustang’s team had always been close, to the point that they would desert the military to support each other without question.

Miles looked down at his desk. “Lt. Col. Havoc left for Central this morning, but he’ll be back in a few days. Before he left, he told Lt. Falman about it, but he isn’t well enough to travel.”

“The Council won’t be happy to hear that Havoc is gone.”

“I imagine they won’t. I’m trusting you to handle that.” Miles stood up from the desk. “It’s time for me to get back out to the construction. I’ll stay in touch as I get more information, but for now, please tell the Council what’s going on.”

I nodded and followed him out of the room. Mida was waiting for me in the lobby with Agniya. “What are you two doing here?”

Mida smiled. “It’s just a check-up. I was going to ask you to take me, but then Col. Miles called you in and I didn’t want you to have to worry about me.”

“It’s good to see you again, Mida,” Miles said. “You seem to be recovering nicely.”

Her attention shifted to him. “Thank you, colonel. It’s good to see you, too.” Miles returned her smile and continued out of the infirmary, his mind focused on his work.

Once Miles was gone, Agniya turned to me. “Why aren’t you working today? They aren’t finished yet, are they?”

Shaking my head, I answered, “The Council is meeting today. Speaking of, if you wouldn’t mind bringing Mida to the Gunja Gathering House when you’re done here, I’d be grateful.” I needed to go find the others.

“Sure. It might be a few hours, though.” I thanked her, gave one more smile to Mida, and left to find Cemal.

Shortly after midday, the Council had gathered, except for Kammani, who was helping to deliver a baby in Ziran.

“So, what did Col. Miles want?” Ismat asked after the traditional greeting had been given and returned. They were all hanging on my every word.

“Fuhrer Grumman is dead. There was a break-in at his house last night, during a party he was throwing for Fuhrer Mustang. Gunman shot him and several others, including Lt. Col. Hawkeye, but Mustang was not hurt.” Their expressions showed varying levels of shock. Glancing to my right to see Mida, her eyes were huge and her mouth was slightly open.

“Are any of the others dead, the other guests?” Faiza asked.

I shook my head. “They believe that the attack came from inside the military, but they aren’t sure. Lt. Col. Havoc left this morning for Central, but he won’t stay there long.”

Karimi frowned. “He should have stayed here, no matter what happened in Central. The investigation here is his top priority.”

Mida rebutted, “But it’s his family. You saw how close they all were when they worked here. And they’re getting closer with the investigation, now that they have that State Alchemist’s information.” We were all surprised to hear her speak out like that. Normally, she stayed quiet during the meetings. She turned to me. “How is Lt. Col. Hawkeye?”

I thought back to what Miles had said. “All that Miles said was that she is in critical condition. She is still alive.” Her life seemed to be of more value to the Council than Grumman’s, as I expected. They all knew and respected her, possibly more than they respected Mustang. Even Karimi seemed worried.

* * *

**Gracia**

I still had Elicia in my lap when the military police arrived about five minutes after Riza collapsed. Capt. Breda had tried to get us to come out from under the table, but Elicia wouldn’t move. At the time, I wasn’t strong enough to carry her out.

From where we were sitting, I could see Catherine Armstrong wrapping a cloth napkin around her brother’s fingers, Sheska wrapping her arm around a shaking Denise, and Roy kneeling with Riza in his arms. Capt. Breda and Lt. Fuery were making sure everyone was okay while Gen. Douglas checked on the guard and the gunman.

When the military police arrived, I kissed Elicia’s forehead. “Come on, sweetie. Let’s come out from under the table, okay?” She was still shaking, wrapped around me like a vine, but she nodded. One of the soldiers knelt down to assist us.

My legs barely supported me when I stood, but I had to help my daughter and I couldn’t be a burden when other people were in much worse condition. Stretchers were brought in for Riza and Fuhrer Grumman. Once Fuhrer Grumman was on a stretcher, Lt. Fuery came to stand with me.

“You doing okay, Mrs. Hughes?” I nodded slowly, trying to give him a smile. He knelt down in front of Elicia. “You’re safe now, Elicia. Lt. Col. Hawkeye got the bad guys.”

One of the military police approached us. “Lt. Fuery, can you give us a report on what happened?” He gave an apologetic look to me before walking off with the soldier. Another soldier came up to us.

“Ma’am, please come with me. We’re going to take you and your daughter to the hospital to be checked out.” While he was talking, Riza was being taken out on a stretcher. Roy was walking behind them, as if he were being pulled along on a string. He looked to where I was standing, shame and grief completely overtaking him, and then looked away from me. I knew that he would go with her, and to me, he had no other choice. I hugged Elicia closer.

“Thank you.” We followed the soldier out of the room and down the front steps to a military car. We rode with the Duvals. Mrs. Duval was trying to talk to Elicia, to bring her out of shock, but Elicia just stared at her.

When we arrived at the hospital, a few nurses greeted us. One of them stopped me. “Oh goodness, are you injured?” I looked at her, confused. She gestured to my shoulder. Looking at it, I saw a few flecks of blood.

 _Oh god._ “It-It’s not mine.” I answered. It’s Riza’s.

I asked that Elicia stay with me when we were examined, and the doctors agreed, thankfully. We were uncomfortably close to the trauma room, where I knew Riza had been taken. Sure enough, a few minutes later, Roy was escorted out of the room by a few nurses. He was obviously angry at them. I could hear him insisting that he was fine all the way into a private room.

Elicia squeezed my arm. “Is Ms. Riza okay?” I was shocked to hear her voice. She hadn’t made a sound since the gunmen stopped firing. I hugged her a little closer.

The nurse doing a preliminary check stopped and leaned over to Elicia. “The doctors are taking very good care of her. But what’s important right now is making sure that you’re okay. Can you hold out your arm for me?” Elicia looked up to me for reassurance and I smiled. She kept one arm firmly around my waist as she lifted her arm.

We were in the hospital until almost 6 a.m., by which point Elicia had fallen asleep, still holding on to me. I gestured for a nurse. “I’m sorry, I know you’re busy,” I whispered, “but could you possibly check on Fuhrer Mustang for me?” She nodded and hurried off to the private room. A few minutes later, she emerged with Roy following her.

“Gracia, I’m so sorry,” he said quietly. “I should have checked on you sooner.” He looked awful, his face pale and haunted. I had been watching this one nurse going back and forth from the trauma room to the private room he was in several times an hour, and it never looked like good news.

“It’s fine. How is she?”

He glanced to the room and then looked back to me, like he couldn’t bear looking over there. “She’s bleeding internally, and they’re trying to stop it, but then the nerves in her arm are severely injured, so she might lose some mobility.” He repeated it woodenly to me.

I shifted around a bit so I could support Elicia with one arm and reached for his hand. He looked at my hand like he wasn’t sure what to do with it before raising his. Grasping his hand, I smiled at him. “They’re going to stop the bleeding and her arm will heal. She’s come through worse.” The look on his face said he wasn’t convinced, and I’m not sure she had come through worse.

Seconds later, we heard yelling coming from the trauma room and a doctor stuck her head out the door, calling “Code Blue!” to her colleagues. The extra activity woke Elicia.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Roy dropped my hand and turned to the room. “Mom?”

“Roy, wait.” I called after him as he started toward the room. He didn’t hear me and went through the doors. I could hear a huge commotion inside, but none of it sounded like him.

“Mom?” Elicia tugged on my arm.

I looked down at her, tearing my eyes away from the blind-covered windows. “It’s fine, Elicia. They just needed a few extra doctors to help Ms. Riza.” _Please, please be okay._


	23. Stoke

**November 1919**

**Kaliq**

Over the next few days, Miles continued to give us information on what was happening in Central. After several scares in the first twelve hours, Hawkeye was in stable condition. Mustang had released a statement about it, saying exactly what we’d already learned. He added that they were putting together a special team of investigators to find out who was responsible.

In Ishval, things continued as planned. Osman’s trial started tomorrow, and everyone was on edge. The Council had announced how it would be handled, and made it open to the public, a decision I wasn’t entirely on board with. But that was how trials worked in the days before the annexation, and the Council wanted to give a sense that things were returning to normal.

Agniya invited Cemal, Mida, and I to dinner with her family that night, something we hadn’t done in a while. We sat around the table, chatting to each other and the boys, talking about everything except the trials and the Wardens, and it was nice. I missed having Suraya there to temper the conversation. The other three were all … more cheerful than the two of us were, and we had a nice balance. When the dinner was over, Mida volunteered to help Agniya clean up.

Cemal and I moved the table out of the way and laid the mats on the floor for us to talk. Vedran tried to help, preparing for his birthday in a few weeks, and Yasef ran off with Toby.

“You and Mida seem pretty cozy these days.” Cemal smirked at me, but I ignored him. “She’s still living with you, right?”

“She’s not well enough to live on her own, and Agniya has her hands full with the boys.” Otherwise, it would be inappropriate for her to live with me.

“Yeah, but she could be living with Kammani or something. Or shoot, the infirmary.” One of the mats was folded in on itself and Cemal got on his knees to fix it. “You have told her that you care about her, right?”

I thought back to the night we kissed. I wasn’t about to tell Cemal about that, but sometimes I wondered if Agniya knew, the way she would look at us. “We’ve talked about it, yes.”

Cemal nodded and pursed his lips. “Okay, then. So now what?”

I stopped. I hadn’t thought about the future at all; I’d gotten in the habit of ignoring it, not knowing if I was going to live to see the next day. I wasn’t sure I wanted to think about it. “What do you mean?”

He sighed loudly. “I mean,” he glanced to the kitchen and spoke more quietly, “Are you two in a relationship?”I hadn’t really thought about it and shrugged, looking away from Cemal. All the mats were down, so I didn’t have an excuse to walk away. He shook his head. “So you don’t mind someone else coming up Mida and, I don’t know, confessing their love to her?”

I just stared at him. “If that’s how they feel, then no, I don’t mind.”

Cemal’s shoulders dropped. “What if she decides she wants to be with them instead?”

“Then that’s her decision.”

“What’s whose decision?” Agniya and Mida came back into the room, Mida rolling herself along in her chair. Agniya settled herself down on a mat“What were you guys talking about?”

Vedran, who had been silent the entire time Cemal and I had been talking, said, “Kaliq and Mida.” My eyes popped when he said it, and Mida’s face turned red.

Cemal laughed. “Yeah, I was just curious.”

“Just leave them alone, Cemal. They’ll figure it out on their own.” Agniya’s flippant treatment of the subject made even my face feel a little warm. I looked to Mida, and she had glanced up at me. Catching each other’s eyes, we both smiled.

Agniya changed the subject back to the new baby, a little boy named Lyuban. The rest of the night was enjoyable, if a little awkward. We were eventually interrupted by Yasef shouting “Bad dog!” in the other room and starting to cry.

We all rushed in there, and Toby was cowering in the corner, surrounded by a few small toys that Yasef had thrown at him. Yasef was holding his hand close to his chest. Agniya crouched in front of him. “Let me see.” Toby had bitten his hand pretty badly. I crossed to Toby and picked him up.

“No biting.” I said sternly, staring him down. “No.” I passed him around until I had him situated under my arm and his front paws were pinned against my side. He squirmed a bit until I glared at him. He hated being held.

“What happened?” Agniya asked.

Yasef took his hand back. “I was just playing fetch with him and I tried to hide the toy instead of throwing it, but he saw me and tried to grab it out of my hand. I didn’t want him to get it but he bit me.”

Agniya sighed. “I think he thought you were playing. He didn’t mean to hurt you. And you shouldn’t be playing fetch inside, okay?” Yasef nodded. “Okay, let’s go wash your hand.” She and Yasef left the room.

Mida looked up at me. “Does he usually bite?”

“Sometimes. He doesn’t quite understand the difference between playing and fighting.” He had stopped squirming and was now pleading with me to let him down. I ignored him. I was going to hold him until we got back to my house.

“Hmm. I’ve never had a problem with him.” She rolled over to us and frowned at him. This worked more on him than any of my tactics, and his ears drooped.

“He seems to like you better than anyone else.”

“He’s not the only one,” Cemal said, giving me a look before leaving the room. Leave it to Cemal to make an inappropriately timed comment. I scowled in his direction. Mida was blushing, and she reached out to rub Toby’s head, who still looked remorseful.

“The feeling’s mutual,” she said, giving me a small smile. My heart jumped up into my throat, making it hard to breathe. We hadn’t really said anything since that night. We’d dropped hints, but nothing directly.

“Mida,” I started, but I didn’t know where I was going. “Do you … are you happy? With me?”

She was confused for a second and then her eyebrows lifted. “Of course. I mean, there are a lot of things that I’m not happy about right now, but you … make them better.” Toby started squirming again, sensing that my attention had shifted. I tried to contain him, but he jumped down and out of the room.

“Toby!” I called, and started leaving the room, but Mida had put her hand on my arm.

“Wait, Kaliq. Are you worried I’m not happy with you?” Her face was worried. “Are you happy with me?”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, yes, I am happy with … you make me happier than anyone …” I just stopped trying, embarrassed that my mouth had taken off on its own. That didn’t usually happen. I felt my face flush again.

Mida broke into a grin and laughed. Then she pushed herself up to standing in her chair and I reached out to help her. She lifted her head to kiss my nose. “I love you, Kaliq.”

I smiled. “I love you, too.” She started lowering herself into the chair again and I guided her down. “Now I need to go catch that dog.”

* * *

**Hawkeye**

_“I love you.”_

It was still ringing in my ears when I opened my eyes. I recognized the ceiling tile from the last time I was in the hospital. It was quiet, as far as hospitals go, with the soft sound of phones ringing and people talking muffled by the closed door. I looked down at myself, seeing wires sticking out from underneath a hospital gown. A blanket was laying over me from the waist down. In my peripherals, I could see someone in a military uniform sitting in the chair to the left of the bed. My shoulder twinged as I turned my head to see who it was.

Havoc was sleeping in the chair, his head drooping to the side and mouth hanging open. A line of drool was trailing to his shoulder. I continued looking around the room, noting the bouquets on the nightstand and windowsill. I felt awkward, trying to look at the opposite side of the room, so I started pushing myself up higher on the bed. My stomach screamed against the effort and I dropped back down with a groan.

“You’re awake!” Havoc jumped up and rushed to the side of the bed.

“Yeah.” I groaned. “Have been for a few minutes.” He pressed the call button on the wall.

“How are you feeling?” Despite having just woken up, he spoke with more energy than the pain in my body could handle, but I couldn’t tell him that.

“I’ve been better.” He laughed. Good for him. A doctor came in and Havoc backed up to give him room.

“Good afternoon, Lt. Col. Hawkeye. I’m Dirk Cuthbert, the doctor overseeing your case. How are you feeling?” He was an older man, with balding dark hair.

“My stomach isn’t feeling that great, but I’m okay.” My voice was less raspy the more I used it, but my head still felt fuzzy.

“You did get injured pretty badly. It’s going to hurt for a while, but I can get you something for the pain.” He pulled a flashlight from his coat pocket. “I’d like to check your eyes, now. Just stare at the wall, past the light for me.” Leaning over me, he shined the light in my eyes, causing them to water. This wasn’t exactly a peaceful awakening. He stood back up. “There doesn’t seem to be any lasting damage from the time you spent asleep.”

I frowned. “How long was I unconscious?” It felt like no time at all.

“Four days. You didn’t get into a room until almost a day after it happened, though.”

My mind went back to last night, no, it was a few days ago. I remembered falling, twice, and Fuhrer Grumman, and Major Armstrong. “What about the others who were hurt?”

Dr. Cuthbert looked to Havoc, who lowered his eyes. In that pause, I tried to remember who had been injured enough to die. Or maybe the gunman came back. Havoc came forward. “Hawkeye, umm, Fuhrer Grumman didn’t make it. He passed away in the ambulance on the way here.”

Grumman was dead? I remembered then, how he had been shot in the chest and was spitting blood. “And Major Armstrong?”

Dr. Cuthberts answered, “He’s lost his little finger, but the other was salvageable. He’s at home now.”

I nodded, relaxing a bit. Those two were the worst injured, from what I remembered. “Thank you.”

The doctor smiled at me. “I’m going to go check on getting you some more pain medication. I’ll be back in a minute.” He left the room, his hands in his pockets.

I wanted to ask more questions, to clear up the rest of my memory. Where did the “I love you” come from? Was that from that night or some other time? Or maybe someone said it while I was unconscious.

Havoc sat back down in the chair. “So what happened? Do you remember?”

I closed my eyes. “Bits and pieces.” I remembered the man in the window before it all started, and I remembered jumping in front of the fuhrer. I remembered my arm falling away and Gracia grabbing my leg. After that it was all a blur of images. “What happened to Mrs. Hughes?”

“She’s fine. She and Elicia spent that night in the hospital but left the next morning. They came to visit you the day after they moved you into this room.” He pointed to a stuffed dog on the windowsill. “That’s from them. Well, Elicia, specifically. She said you probably missed Black Hayate.” I smiled at the dog. It was a labrador, not a shiba inu, but it looked very soft.

“What about the flowers?” I asked. Havoc went around the room, telling me who brought each bouquet. I had flowers from the team, Rebecca, Sheska, the Armstrong family, Gen. Douglas, the Duvals, and some people I’d never heard of. Knowing who they were from made them more special to me. If I was going to be in the hospital for a while, I should use some of the time to send thank you notes. But none of those names reminded me of who told me they loved me.

“Aw, shit,” he said suddenly. “I forgot to call Mustang. He made me promise.” He ran to the door. “I’ll be right back.”

Was it him? The thought that it might have been him made my hands shake. I couldn’t bear to even consider it and convinced myself it wasn’t him. If it had been, I would have recognized his voice and I wouldn’t have trouble remembering who it was. But who else would it be? No. That wasn’t the right way to be thinking about it.

Dr. Cuthbert came back in with a nurse who was holding a syringe. “Hello, Ms. Hawkeye. I’m Anne, one of the nurses who’s been taking care of you. I’m going to give you some morphine for the pain, okay?” I nodded as she stuck the needle into the tube coming from my arm.

Dr. Cuthbert asked, “Any changes since I’ve been gone?”

“No, but …” I wasn’t sure if I could ask him about it.

“What is it?” He stepped closer as the nurse withdrew the syringe and checked on the various equipment in the room.

“I’m not able to remember that night very clearly.”

He smiled in relief. “Oh, that’s normal after sustaining injuries like yours. Your brain wasn’t getting enough blood, so it’ll probably be fuzzy for a while. You might get some memories of it back, but some will always be unclear.” Anne nodded to him and left. “Is there anything else you’re worried about?”

 _Nothing medically._ “No, but how long do you think I’ll be in the hospital?”

He brought his hand up to his chin. “Hmm. It’ll be at least two weeks before I’d feel comfortable releasing you. You could need more surgery and we want to make sure it doesn’t get infected.”

I sighed. I hated staying in the hospital longer than a few days. I had work to do. “Thank you.”

“Of course. If you have any more questions or need anything, just press the call button behind your head. I’ll be back in an hour or so to check on your arm.” He left the room and I was alone for a few seconds before Havoc came back in.

He didn’t look so good. “What happened?”

“The chief wasn’t happy with me, not calling him immediately.” He rubbed his neck. “It’s not like it was that long.”

I smiled. “Not to mention, it’s a bit hypocritical.” Havoc gave me a weird look. “What?”

“That was … different. You don’t usually comment on stuff like this.” He shrugged and sat in the chair, grinning. “Must be whatever they gave you for pain meds. This could be fun.”

“Havoc, I swear, if you do anything to me while I’m not in my right mind, I will use you for target practice.”

“See! You never threaten me like that unless you’re on something!” He laughed. I could feel the morphine kicking in by that point and looked up at the ceiling. If I just kept my mouth shut, I wouldn’t give Havoc any embarrassing stories to tell.

He kept trying to get something out of me, and he did make me laugh once. It hurt, though, despite the medication, so he stopped. The pain was finally fading again when someone knocked on the door. Havoc answered it, and Fuhrer Mustang was standing on the other side.

He didn’t look so good. He had stubble growing all over his face and bags under his eyes. His uniform was wrinkled and his eyes were a little crazed. “Havoc.” His voice was low and vaguely threatening. For all that he looked horrible and sounded angry, I smiled. It was good to see him.

He looked over to me and for a moment, his eyes made my heart break from all of the emotions I read in them. Then he lowered his eyes, as if he were ashamed of something. Havoc watched all of this and then looked at me, just as confused as I was. What was he worried about? _Unless he was the one who said it…_ I closed my eyes, trying to block that out. There was no way.

I heard his footsteps approaching the bed and opened my eyes. He was standing next to the bed, looking at me like he it was his fault. “How are you doing, lt. colonel?” His voice was muted and wavering.

“It’s not your fault, sir. And I’m fine.” My head was light from the drugs. This was definitely going to be interesting. He took a step back and his eyes widened. “I’m on morphine, so I’m gonna say some weird stuff.” He looked to Havoc for help, who just shrugged his shoulders. But he wasn’t getting away that easily. “Hey, look at me. I made the decision to step in front of when that - those guys entered the room. You had no say in the matter.” He opened his mouth to say something. “I’m not finished yet. You always blame yourself for stuff like this. Like when Havoc lost his legs.”

Havoc raised his hand. “Well, actually-”

“Ah!” I shouted at him. Back to the fuhrer, I continued, “And then you blamed yourself for when they tried to make you perform human transmutation by slitting my throat, and you blame yourself for the gathering house in Ishval and all that other stuff.” He was just staring at me, mouth slightly open. “What I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t blame yourself for that. Or this. Because it’s not your fault.” They were both shocked. “Okay, now I’m done.”

Havoc was the first to recover. “I’m going to go let the rest of the team know you’re okay.” He exchanged a look with Mustang and left.

The fuhrer regained his composure when Havoc was talking and pulled the chair up next to the bed. “They put you on morphine? Are you in pain?” I could tell that he still blamed himself, but I knew there was no point in continuing on that subject.

“Not really. Only when I move a certain way or laugh.” I looked at my shoulder. “I haven’t tried moving my arm yet.” I started moving my hand, but the fuhrer put his hand on top of my arm.

“Maybe you shouldn’t, until the doctor comes back.” Even the possibility that he had been the one who said it made my arm tingle in strange ways while he was touching it. I felt my face flush, which was ridiculous. It’s not like we hadn’t touched before. He kept his hand on my arm, which was pleasantly warm in the chilly hospital. “Why did you jump in front of me?”

 _How could he ask me that?_ “It’s my job. You are the fuhrer, and I swore to protect you.” It wasn’t the first time I’d put myself in harm’s way to save his life, and if something like that happened again, it wouldn’t be the last.

He moved his hand down to take mine, the guilty expression back on his face. “I can’t …” His voice was quieter, softer, a tone I hadn’t heard in years. And then I knew. He was the one who said it. “I can’t watch you die because of me.” I brought my other arm over, ignoring the slight twinge from my stomach as it crossed over, and rested my hand on top of his.

“I remember what you said.”


	24. Flaring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: brief mention of sexual assault and victim blaming. Nothing is explicitly said, but heavily implied.

**November**

**Kaliq**

We watched as Col. Miles and Osman came in, both escorted by military personnel. We needed the extra help, despite trying to make this as much of an exclusively-Ishvallan-run process, as we didn’t have our own law enforcement organization, yet. The Council was seated on a platform near the front of the room and the accused and accuser had mats on the floor that faced us. Others who had been interested in watching the trial were seated around us, originally in a circle, but as the crowd grew, they started finding seats wherever they could. Finally, when everyone had been settled, Cemal stood to start the trial. He was not my first choice for Voice of the Council this time around, but he held himself with dignity and gravity. Mida was sitting between him and Ismat on his left, with Faiza on the outside. On Cemal’s right was my master, then Karimi, then me and Kammani.

Cemal raised his hands. “ _Ahlan wa sahlan, dosenuq_.” He lowered his hands and turned to Miles. “Col. Miles, on behalf of the military, you have accused Osman of destroying your property and causing several deaths. Would you please explain the specific ways in which this man has harmed you?” He sat as Miles stood.

Miles had not worn his sunglasses, which seemed to garnering mixed reactions from the Council. I understood he meant it to be a sign of solidarity, but he was not raised in Ishval, even if his grandfather and mother had taught him our ways. He addressed the Council. “Last week, after a misunderstanding, Osman,” he motioned toward him, “started a riot and set the military base on fire. Two soldiers and one Ishvallan died because of Osman’s actions. An unknown number of others were wounded. I ask that Osman receive the judgement he deserves, as determined by the Council of Elders.” He had been learning about the Ishvallan judicial system from Elyakim- _malim_ for the past few days, and it paid off. Showing the military asking for the Ishvallans to take responsibility and then giving them the power to do so was a huge step forward for our people, and I could see that in the eyes of those who came to watch.

Cemal nodded and Miles sat back down. “Osman, what is your response to these charges?”

I could see that Osman had prepared notes, a change from his usual, spontaneous and emotional approach. He stood. “I do not deny that I rallied my brethren together and set fire to the base, but it was not without provocation.” It was then that I understood that he was aiming for justification, which was something the Amestrian judicial system rarely allowed. “The night before, an Amestrian soldier had harassed four Ishvallan teenagers. He threatened them with firearms. This was not the first instance of unnecessary force or even outright aggression that the Amestrian military has displayed toward our people. When they learned that at least one of their own was involved with the Wardens, they ignored the truth. They manipulated the distribution of supplies so that we would continue to rely on them. And we all remember that woman soldier who accused an Ishvallan of assault. The military, of course, sided with the soldier because of the ingrained racism against us. His life was ruined while she was given a large sum of money. All of these events justify my actions.”

Several people were whispering when he sat down. That was an extremely controversial case from several years ago, not long after Ishvallans had started returning to our homeland. Mustang had overseen the case, and everyone agreed with the ruling, except for a few outliers, which had included Osman, now that I thought about it. He would not get the Council on his side by bringing that up.

Cemal stood and raised his hands for quiet. “The Council has heard both sides. It is now time for us to decide if the provocation the accused has cited is equal to the harm done.” He lowered his hands and the rest of us stood. We filed out of the room, behind him, into a smaller meeting room.

In the room by ourselves, we all relaxed a bit. Sitting in our usual circle, in the same order as in the larger room, Cemal opened the discussion. “So, what do we think?"

Ismat spoke first. “The things he listed as his provocation - the assault, the Wardens, and the teenagers - are not enough to merit the fire, in my opinion. The riot, yes, but not the fire. The assault was another matter entirely, and resolved some time ago. The Wardens are not the military. There may be some overlap, but his anger is misplaced if the Wardens are the cause. I do think the military did not take responsibility for the behavior of the soldier toward the teenagers. However, that alone is not enough.” As always, he was very direct.

Faiza nodded and Kammani suggested, “Perhaps we can penalize them both.” I was surprised that she would want to punish the military for this. She usually stuck to one side of the story, and that tended to be not Osman.

“We talk about this like we have the power to require the military to do anything,” Karimi said, his voice bitter. “We are only doing this because they have allowed us to do so.”

Mida was the one to answer him, shocking everyone. “Karimi- _malim_ , that is not a factor in our decision. Regardless of how much power we have or where we got it from, this decision is ours. We need to give it the consideration it deserves. This will determine the relations between Ishval and Amestris for at least the next ten years. This sets a precedent for any other similar occurrences.” Karimi’s eyebrows were raised at her, and she looked slightly embarrassed as she lowered her eyes. “What is your recommendation for all of this?”

He was still in shock - we all were - but he huffed and smiled at her, the first time I’d ever seen him smile. “I agree with Ismat. His anger is, for the most part, misplaced. As for sentencing Col. Miles, I am not sure how that would work.” He turned back to Kammani. “Please elaborate on what you meant.” Just like that, any tension building in the room was gone. I glanced at Mida, whose face was a little red, but she was looking intently at Kammani, waiting for her response.

Kammani crossed her arms. “We could insist that the soldier who threatened the Ishvallan kids be transferred or demoted. It’s enough to send a message that we have some control over this area without forcefully subjugating the Amestrians.”

“Hmm.” Elyakim- _malim_ said, “Yes, that does sound like a good idea. But what about Osman? What should we do about him?” Leave it to him to keep us on track.

We were all silent, thinking about the possibilities. Imprisoning him would require a prison, and what little we did have was destroyed in the fire. Banishment would not help anyone, and his crime was not severe enough for that. Community service would only instill more resentment.

“The accuser has the right to be present for the discussion of the accused’s punishment. Why don’t we invite him in and see what he thinks?” Cemal asked. We all quickly agreed on that. He might have some different ideas.

When Miles came in, Cemal had him sit next between himself and Elyakim. He looked vaguely uncomfortable. “Col. Miles,” Kammani began, “as you are aware, you have a say in Osman’s punishment. We are having some difficulty coming up with something appropriate for his crime. Do you have any ideas?”

Miles frowned and looked down. “Ordinarily, the sentence for vandalism is community service, and he has essentially performed extreme vandalism. So it would make sense for him to have to perform extreme community service.”

“What do you mean?” Ismat asked.

Miles brought his hand up to his lips. “Maybe he could be sentenced to rebuild something. Or-” His eyes widened and his eyes slowly refocused on us. “I know what to do.” He turned to Cemal. “Send him to Briggs Command for six months. If there’s one place where he will learn the necessity of interdependence as well as atone for his actions, that’s the place.”

My eyes widened and Mida glanced over at me. “What is it, Kaliq?”

“I have met the commanding officer of Briggs Command, and I agree with Col. Miles. Having been in the north myself, it is a harsh place and it is impossible to survive on your own. It was in Briggs that I reconciled with a few of the Amestrians I had previously fought against.” I remembered the girl who had accepted her parents’ deaths and my guilt and looked past it all.

The rest of the Council agreed, although Faiza was somewhat reluctant to send him so far away. In the end, we all left the room together, heading down the hallway to pronounce our judgement.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

“Two of the people involved were siblings, we think, but we don’t know how high up they were on the chain.” Mustang flipped through papers in a rather full folder, still sitting in the chair next to my bed. We’d been talking about the investigation into who was responsible for the shooting for the past hour. He would periodically pull out photos of suspects for me to look at, some of them I recognized, some I didn’t.

“Fuery noticed a similarity between the letter I received and the first letter sent to Speaker Duval, though, that helped us narrow down the suspects. They both had letterheads that had been scratched off.” He pulled out the letters for me to see. At this point, I think he was showing me all of this more for his benefit than mine, considering how often I responded. The morphine was wearing off and it was harder and harder to turn my head.

Someone knocked on the door, and I called, “Come in.”

Anne walked in, pushing a table with various medical tools on it. “Just coming to check your vitals.” She came around to my right side and wrapped some black cloth around my arm to check my blood pressure. “How is your pain right now?”

“Worse than it was the last time. The medicine is wearing off, I think.” My head felt clearer, too, and all I wanted was to crawl in a hole for the things I had said.

Anne nodded. “I brought some more, in case you needed it, so I’ll give that to you in just a second.” The cloth tightened uncomfortable around my arm. “Your blood pressure is fine. A little higher than normal, but nothing to worry about.” She pulled out a syringe and stuck it into one of the wires. “This should make you feel better.”

On the one hand, I was glad that the pain would lessen. On the other hand, I really didn’t want to start spewing things like before. I just smiled at her, and she went on with her check-up. She would occasionally shoot glances at the fuhrer, who was known for his inclination for nurses. I watched his reaction just as closely as she did. But he didn’t give any indication that he was interested, and for some reason, I was relieved. I frowned. I was not about to go down that path.

There was another knock, and then a woman with big brown hair and a smile stuck her head in. “Permission to enter, sir?” A genuine smile came across my face and my heart didn’t feel as heavy.

“Good to see you, Rebecca. Come in.” Maybe now Mustang would leave. He didn’t really get along with her. I remembered when they met after the Promised Day, when Rebecca came to visit me in the hospital after everything had calmed down. She had blatantly ignored him, even said a few hurtful things about my injuries being his fault. Despite all of that, though, I knew she was only doing it for my benefit.

Rebecca came in, her smile a little bit older than the last time I saw her. She was in civilian clothes, with a little more make-up than most people liked to wear. The fuhrer was smiling cordially at her. “Lt. Catalina, long time, no see.”

She smiled. “Literally. Last time I saw you, your eyes were a little blurry.” I tried to think. I had seen her since then, but I guessed those had all been on my days off, when we’d agreed to meet up in East City for the day. It had been well over a year since we had last gotten together, but then, we’d both been busy.

Mustang put the papers back in the folder. “I think I’ll go back to the office for a bit. If you need anything, call me at the office first, and then my home number if I don’t answer.” I nodded, feeling the first nudges of the medication kicking in. He stood up and walked to the door. “I’ll be back to visit you later today, probably.”

“Thank you, sir. And about earlier, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” _Damn my mouth_.

His eyebrows raised, and his expression, just for a second, clearly said that I had. But he gave me a warm smile. “Don’t worry about it, lt. colonel. I was out of line.” He left and for all that I had been miserable while he was here, it was empty now that he wasn’t.

Rebecca leaned over me, her hands on her hips. “What was _that_ about?” Anne nodded, looking expectantly at me. She had moved over to the machines attached to me, writing numbers down on a sheet of paper.

I sighed, knowing that my head was going to be swimming in a minute and I was probably going to tell her everything. Might as well at least start rationally. “He said something a little too personal to me just before I passed out, and I confronted him about it just now.” I didn’t want to say too much in front of the nurse. How long did it take to write down a few things?

“What do you mean, personal?” Rebecca didn’t seem to care that Anne was still around. I frowned, knowing I wouldn’t care either, in a few seconds. I glanced over at her, just in time to catch her eye.

She smiled knowingly. “All right, I think I’m done for now. Just press the call button if you need anything.” She took the tray out of the room, leaving me alone with my interrogator. As much as I didn’t want to talk about it in front of her, I realized I didn’t want to talk about it at all, like I had told the fuhrer not long ago.

Rebecca raised one eyebrow expectantly, and I gave in, cursing the morphine the whole time. “He may or may not have told me …” I hesitated, not wanting to say the words out loud. It was one thing to think it, and another thing entirely to talk about it with someone.

“Told you …” She prompted. I looked down and away from her, and she sighed dramatically. “Whenever we start talking about anything related to emotions, you close up like a clam. I mean, it can’t be that bad. It’s not like he would tell you he loved you or anything.” I tensed up when she said it, causing my injuries to protest, and I let out a little groan. Her mocking expression dissipated as she realized it. “Oh my god. He did.” I nodded and she nearly screamed. “What did you say?” she breathed.

“Nothing. I sort of lost consciousness after that.” I snarked.

She rolled her eyes. “I mean just now. Obviously, you talked about it. It didn’t sound like it went too well.”

“It isn’t ever going to go well. It’s wrong. He’s my superior officer and there are laws against it.” I was very adamant about it to her, no matter how I had tried to explain it to him, even though I knew that argument was weak.

“Please, Riza. We both know several couples inside the military, and no one cares. Besides, if he wanted to, he could write a pardon for the two of you, or even do away with the fraternization laws all together.”

I glared at her. “They are in place for good reason.” I could feel my argument caving, and I knew it wasn’t strong to begin with.

She pursed her lips and shoved them to the side. “Yeah, okay. But we both know that you and him wouldn’t have problems like that. You’re both too serious about your work. The laws aren’t the problem here, and you know it.”

My argument completely collapsed when she said that, but I couldn’t let it go. “There is no other problem.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “So you’re saying there’s nothing between you two?”

I shook my head. “There isn’t.” Rebecca was the first person to suggest that there was, way back when Mustang had visited the academy. That was before the war, when our friendship was still in the beginning stages, when I had thought that maybe I did care for my father’s student. Of course, that was only because Rebecca had put the thought in my head.

She scoffed. “Do you remember what you told me when I first asked you why you joined the military, and then what you started telling everyone else?” I looked away. Of course I remembered, but I wasn’t going to give her the pleasure of an answer. “You told me that you enlisted because you needed to be near someone and that you needed to make sure they reached their goals. And then you told Havoc that there was someone you needed to protect. And you would always get this look in your eye and this little smile. That is something, and you _cannot_ deny that.”

The morphine was tearing down the walls I had built up around my mind and her words got through. I tried not to let it show, but there was that first little bit of doubt. “That … was a long time ago.”

“You still say it.” She crossed her arms and sat back. My eyes lowered as I reflected on her words. I knew I had been holding my emotions in check for a very long time, but that was because of Ishval, not … whatever she was implying. Her tone softened. “Just talk to me about it. Stop hiding behind your walls and let me in. I don’t think you can handle this on your own anymore.”

I wanted to, to get it out and overwith and deal with whatever it was. “I can’t.”

She sighed softly and her shoulders dropped. “Why not?” I thought about my reasons, and it was hard to come up with any. Regardless of whether or not it was appropriate, he had opened that box and released the chaos. All I could think about was how complicated things had gotten and how long we had avoided the subject. It had been 11 years since our lives had changed forever and all of that was set aside.

“I don’t know.”

“Just tell me what you’re thinking, then.” Rebecca leaned over and rested her elbows on the edge of the bed, looking up at me expectantly. She looked just like she had when I had first told her about my tattoo.

I sighed and closed my eyes for a second, trying to organize my thoughts. “After the war, we were different. I … well, you remember what I was like.” She nodded. “I didn’t have the capacity to process any of that for a very long time, and when I finally reached the point where I could, I pushed it down. There was just too much clouding everything.”

“Like what?”

I stared at her, trying to think of where to begin. “His goals, for one thing. That was the only thing we were focused on for a long time. And then, there were the Elric brothers and all of their problems.” I stopped, trying to remember what else was there. “Everything we had been through … we both felt responsibility and, I guess, guilt about it.”

She hummed and nodded. “Those are all good reasons, but he’s said it now.” I nodded. There was nowhere to run anymore. I smiled as I compared myself to a cornered animal. “What?”

“I was just thinking about how I don’t have a choice in this anymore.” I thought about all of those times I had avoided his touch or his glance, side-stepping his comments and sometimes even leaving the room.

She laughed softly. “Yeah, I guess so.” She leaned down to catch my eyes, which were drifting over the blanket on the bed. “So how do you feel? And don’t do an inner monologue thing. Tell me.”

I lowered my eyelids and grimaced at her before I seriously considered her question. “I don’t know. It’s hard to get past everything.”

“Mmm.” She nodded and straightened up, a serious frown on her face. “Just tell me what you like about him and maybe that’ll help.”

What I liked about him? “He is dedicated to the people he cares about, and he cares a lot.” The morphine was making my head feel fuzzy again, and my vocabulary was greatly reduced. “For all that he’s in a position of power, he remembers who he is and everyone who helped him get there. And he has a strong sense of morality.”

Rebecca nodded encouragingly. “Okay, that all sounds good. Do you feel anything?”

I started to shrug and winced. She started, reaching up to help me, but I just sat there and breathed for a moment. “I’m okay. I just forgot about my shoulder for a second.” She was still worried but put her hands back down as I answered. “I’m proud, I think.”

“Proud?” I nodded. “Okay, so think of another time when you were really proud of him.” I thought back to when it was announced that he would be the next Fuhrer, and that feeling of warmth expanding in my chest. And I remembered after all of the excitement was over, when it was just our team, and the strange bubbly feeling that made me twitchy. Then, there was that moment, that embrace. Rebecca caught my eyes again. “I told you, no inner monologues. Spill.”

I smiled. “When he found out he was going to be the fuhrer, I was probably more proud of him in that moment than I’ve ever been.”

She returned my smile with a gentler one. “What did it feel like?”

“It was really warm and light and full. I could almost feel it, like a weight, but not a bad weight. Maybe conviction?” I looked to her for confirmation, and her eyes were sparkling with excitement.

“Riza, honey, that is a little bit pride, but that’s something else, too. When have you felt proud of someone else?”

I thought about when Edward brought his brother’s body back from the gate after defeating the Homunculi. “The Elric brothers, on the Promised Day.”

She nodded. “What did that feel like?”

I frowned slightly in thought, but my eyes stayed lit. “I felt the same weight, but it wasn’t as warm. It didn’t spread as much either; it felt like the weight was pointed in a certain direction.” So it wasn’t just pride that I felt for my superior officer that day? But then, what was it?

“Okay, so that’s a different feeling.” I didn’t meet her eyes. She was starting to clear up the space in my head, and I wasn’t sure I liked where this was going. There were things I couldn’t tell her, like how my mother died and what my father did. And that was a big part of my reluctance to think about any of this. But she wasn’t through with me. “What about his appearance? Do you think he’s attractive?”

I turned my head to look at her, eyebrows raised, and she shrugged. I had gotten this far, I might as well answer her questions. “I’ve known him for so long that anything like that doesn’t matter anymore.”

She sighed. “That’s not what I asked. Just talk about how he looks for a minute.”

I really didn’t want to. “He looks nice in his uniform.” I offered, but she frowned at me and gestured for me to continue. Looking back down at the blanket, I pictured him in my head. “His eyes are strong, when he’s doing something important.” I thought about the look he gave me sometimes, and I could feel something pushing at the walls in my head, but I ignored it and kept going. “He does look good without his shirt on, though.”

Rebecca smirked. “Lucky you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ve only seen him like that when he’s injured.” _Or those times we went swimming in that spring in Ishval._ Closing my eyes to clear that image away, I kept going. “He holds himself very well.” Thinking about the way he looked when I walked behind him, with his shoulders sure and his expression filled with purpose and passion, I felt that warmth I had mistaken for pride spilling through the cracks in my walls. My face paled.

Rebecca’s smirk turned into a grin. “I think you know, now.” I tried to fight the smile that threatened to appear. This was not something to smile about.


	25. Ardent

**December 1919**

**Kaliq**

Osman left for Briggs the week after the trial, and Miles transferred the demoted warrant officer who had harassed the teenagers to Southern Command. Havoc came back to Ishval after a week, once Lt. Col. Hawkeye’s recovery was certain. The military base was almost finished in three weeks, and the barracks had been started once we started on the roof of the base. Rainy season would start soon, so there was a sense of urgency in every aspect of the construction around Ishval. Mida was now walking with a cane as much as she could, although I was afraid that she was pushing herself too hard.

Vedran’s birthday had been last week, and Cemal had been his teacher for the Ways of Ishvalla. He was overeager to become a man, when in truth, his childhood had been taken from him. The ceremony was crowded. Of course, his family was there, but several others who had worked with him on construction projects around the area came, as well as several younger monks. I was happy for him, that the community was showing him support. His surly attitude had worried me quite a bit over the past few months, and I knew Agniya appreciated the turnout.

The celebration after the ceremony had been a nice break from the stress of everything else going on. Havoc and his troops had made much better progress with the Wardens, and even arrested two soldiers suspected of being involved. But with the Wardens still mostly at-large and the colder, wet weather closing in, it was nice to relax around bonfires with the people I cared about. Mida even danced a little bit, with me almost carrying her.

We had gotten closer, especially once the riot repercussions had mostly dissipated. She would kiss me goodbye when I left in the morning, and I would greet her with a kiss when she got home from helping get the school back on track. There had even been one instance, after dinner, when things had almost escalated into dangerous territory. But we both stopped.

It was after dinner, much like that time, when she looked up at me from where she rested in my arms. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

“Hmm?”

She sat up and turned to face me. She bit her lip and blushed, her hair slightly mussed from where her head had been resting against my chest. “Where do you see yourself in ten years?” I couldn’t tell if she was looking for something specific from me. Did she mean between us or me personally?

“Ten years is a long time. A lot can change. Look at where we were ten years ago.” I remembered that it was about this time in 1909 when I finally left the ruins of my home to find warmer shelter in Amestris. I had been so broken, whereas now, I felt so complete. I wondered what Mida’s life had been like during that time. I imagined it wasn’t pleasant, and I felt a little remnant of my anger toward the military when I thought about her suffering. She must have noticed something, because she brought her hand up to my face and moved in closer.

“Kaliq,” she whispered. The way that she said my name felt like she was gently brushing her fingers across my heart, and any animosity vanished. “I want to think about the future with you.” She blushed slightly. “I love you.”

I smiled. “I love you, too.” So she wanted to think about the future. “Where do you see yourself in ten years?” I asked, reaching up to brush her hair back from her face.

She ducked a little into my hand and brought her own back into her lap. “Teaching. Not like I am now, but in a classroom, teaching about various cultures all over the world.” She looked to the side and lowered her eyelids. “And then …” She tried to hide a smile, bringing her hand up to her face. I was completely mesmerized by her movements. She looked back at me, a little embarrassed about whatever it was she was thinking. “I have a family. Not a very large one, but one or two children.”

I remembered the age difference between us. She was more than ten years younger than me. I turned 41 this year. She turned 29. I remembered when Agniya, four years younger than Mida, would come into the temple with pastries for all of the monks. She was a child, then. Mida, if I had known her, would also have been a child to me. I knew other couples with similar age differences, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted that for her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “If this is too fast, we can forget I said anything.”

“No, it’s not that.” I didn’t deserve her. She deserved someone who wasn’t as weathered or spent. She deserved a man who knew what he wanted, someone to stand with her and look to the future, someone who wasn’t stuck in the past. _I need to let her go._ That thought hurt more than I thought it would. “I don’t…” I couldn’t say the words. I wasn’t accustomed to being unable to say something when I had something to say.

Mida cupped my face with her hand, drawing my eyes back to her face. Looking at her eyes, it was like swimming in a spring, with the water flowing gently around you. “Is this about your past?” I didn’t answer. “No matter what you did, you are here, now. Your past controls your future as much as you allow it to.”

I closed my eyes briefly and looked away. “That’s not it.” I brought her hand away from my face and held it in mine. “I know you would be happier with someone else. Someone … younger.”

Her face lifted in surprise for an instant before she smiled. “You’re talking like you’re an old man.” She leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. “Your age doesn’t matter to me. We’re both adults. We have been for a long time. I was an adult before the war. I love you because of who you are, not how long you’ve lived or the wrinkles on your face.” Her comment about wrinkles surprised me. Did I have wrinkles? She saw my reaction and laughed. “I will love your wrinkles when I see them. Don’t worry.”

Her laugh sent electric currents through my chest, and I was captivated by her face again. _Please, Ishvalla, let this work._

“You never answered my question.” Her smile was still there, and she was shrugging off the age issue like it was nothing. Maybe it was nothing.

As far as my future, I honestly didn’t know. Before the war, I had always wanted to be a monk, but I knew I wouldn’t be a monk again. Especially considering I had Mida now. “I only know one thing about my future.” I started. She released her breath, as if she had been holding it expectantly. “In ten years, I want to be with you.” Then I said the words I had been thinking about for a week or so, but I wasn’t sure if I’d have the courage to say them.

“Will you marry me?”

* * *

**Hawkeye**

_Damn._ I winced as my shoulder shot pain down through my arm. I had been going to physical therapy for two weeks, ever since the doctors had finally made up their minds about my arm. I remembered the first time I tried to move it. Even with the morphine, I saw purple spots all over everything for an hour. Today, I was working on lifting my arm in front of me. The therapist left hours ago, with instructions for a nurse to watch me and make sure I didn’t go too far. The one time she said something, I snapped at her. Why did no one understand that I needed to recover as quickly as possible, so that I could get back to the fuhrer’s side?

I let my arm drop, which was a mistake. The weight from my arm, combined with the strain I had been putting on it all day, made my shoulder scream in protest. I let out a small groan and brought my forearm back up to cradle it until the pain stopped.

“I think you should call it a day, lt. colonel.” At the sound of his voice, I jerked around.

“How long have you been here, sir?” It seemed as though the muscles in my arm were not the only thing I needed to work back up. How did the fuhrer get in here without me noticing?

He shrugged. “Just a few minutes. More importantly, how long have you been here?”

I grimaced and looked down at my arm. I didn’t want him to know about my additional practices because I knew he’d react negatively. “Not that long. The physical therapist said I could stay to go through some of the easier movements myself.” That was a lie. She’d actually told me to continue for no more than half an hour by myself.

“Seriously.” The fuhrer walked over to me, the nurse watching his every move as if she were afraid that we were going to break out into a fight. Well, she had precedent for that. This wasn’t the first time Mustang had decided to come by the hospital gym. “If you’re going to keep going, at least let someone spot you.” He angled his stance so his body was perpendicular to mine.

For a moment, I forgot the pain in my surprise. “Sir?”

“Just take my hand, lt. colonel.” He put his hand next to where I was cradling my arm. “Unless you’d rather stop for the day.”

I stared at his hand, unsure if this was a trick or not. Would it really hurt just to take his hand? Tentatively, I brought my hand out to meet his and I could see him smiling in the peripheral. I let my hand rest in his and he took the weight of my relaxed arm. “Thank you, sir.”

His fingers closed around my hand. “Anytime.” The warmth in his voice made my chest swell and I could feel a smile on my face. I just hoped he couldn’t see it. He lowered our hands so that they were pointing at the floor, his grasp gentle. “Why don’t you count off?”

I wanted to show him how far I could go. I also couldn’t fail in front of him. “One, two, three.” He released my hand, but continued matching mine with his as I raised mine up inch by inch. My shoulder started to protest at about 30 degrees, but I wasn’t about to stop there. I would raise my arm all the way until my hand was pointed straight at the wall. 45 degrees, and I could feel my muscles shifting in my wound. I grit my teeth.

“This is high enough, lt. colonel,” he said, his tone soft.

I shook my head, further straining my shoulder. “I can keep going.” I raised my arm another inch. The rest of my body started tensing up, so I clenched my right fist, trying to fight it. Another inch. The back of my neck started tingling and everything suddenly turned cold. But I had to keep going. I would beat this.

“Lt. colonel,” the fuhrer began, “This isn’t-” I staggered a bit and he reached out to catch me. He grabbed my arm, which really only made things worse. I let out a struggling groan and glared at nothing in particular. My vision was spinning.

“Here.” The nurse came forward with a wheelchair, and the fuhrer lowered me down into it, finally letting go of my arm. I instinctively brought my other hand up to protect it. _How could I fail in front of_ him? I stared at my arm, frustrated with myself. I was so close. My face grew warm and I could feel tears starting to form in my eyes, somewhat from the pain, but mostly from my disappointment.

“Lt. Col. Hawkeye, why don’t you rest for the rest of the day and come back again on Thursday?” The nurse’s voice was light, ignoring the negative mood in the room. I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t give up in front of him.

I saw the fuhrer wave her off, and she hesitated, but then left us alone. He knelt down in front of me. “It’s only been a month since you were injured. You were released two weeks ago, and you only see the physical therapist three times a week. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” I still couldn’t meet his eyes. I knew they’d be worried, that they would hold a tenderness that would wrap around my heart, and I couldn’t afford that.

He was waiting for me to respond, but I didn’t quite trust my voice to stay steady. After a few moments filled with deep breaths, I whispered, “I can’t let you down, sir.”

“You never could.” He stood back up. “Actually, about that, I have something for you.” He pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket and held it out to me. Resting my injured arm in my lap, I took it from him. I recognized the style of the envelope and knew it held one of two things: either forced resignation or a promotion.

I started tearing on the edge of the envelope, trying to open it, but it was slow going with only one hand. I was afraid to read it. The fuhrer waited patiently while I struggled with the letter, understanding that any offer of help would only make things worse. Finally, I opened it and pulled out the thin piece of paper.

 

> December 4th, 1919
> 
> To Riza Hawkeye,
> 
> In honor of your continued dedication to Amestris, your excellence under duress, and getting injured in the line of duty, you are promoted to the rank of Colonel, starting from the end of your medical leave. You are to report for duty to Fuhrer Roy Mustang as the Fuhrer’s personal assistant.
> 
>  
> 
> From the Office of Human Resources
> 
> On behalf of the Office of the Fuhrer

  
  


I read the words over and over. _Colonel Riza Hawkeye_. The words sounded foreign to my ears, after using the word “colonel” in place of Fuhrer Mustang’s name. “Sir?”

“It was my idea.” He sounded embarrassed. “You definitely deserve it, and it’ll give you more autonomy once you come back.” His voice hitched suddenly and I glanced up at him. His eyes shifted to mine before dropping. Much quieter, he asked, “Have you thought about … not coming back? It seems like the only thing that working for me gets you is pain, and you have more than enough resources, being Grumman’s heir. And then I said that stupid thing.” I opened my mouth to answer, but he cut me off. “I know you don’t want to discuss it; I just know it might change the way that we act around each other, and I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

I couldn’t believe him, thinking I wouldn’t want to come back when I was trying so hard to get better. “Sir, I swore that I would follow you a long time ago, and nothing is going to change that.” _Not even this damn arm._ “The therapist said I should be able to resume work in another month or so, and I know I can make it happen faster than that. There is no place I would rather be than by your side.” I caught and held his eyes when he glanced at me. He had to know that was the truth, regardless of whatever I had said before.

Eventually, he smiled. “Thanks for the support, _colonel_.” Hearing my new rank on his lips scraped away a little more of that wall that held my feelings at bay. “That’s not the only thing I came to talk to you about. Let’s go talk somewhere a little more private.” I nodded and stood, following him out of the room and into an empty conference room down the hall. Sheska had been waiting in the hallway with a folder tucked under her arm and joined us.

“How have you been, lt. colonel?” she asked, pulling out a chair for me.

I smiled at her and sat. “Well, thank you. And you? I heard you’ve been picking up the slack in my absence.”

She blushed. “Sort of. It’s a lot to learn and I’m afraid I’m not quite up to standards, yet.” I could imagine Mustang not noticing how much stress he was putting on her. She was still working in the archives as well.

The fuhrer cleared his throat, and Sheska hurriedly spread the contents of the folder she was carrying out on the table. “This is what we’ve managed to learn about the guards involved in the shooting. I wanted to go over this with you, colonel, so that you would be up to speed when you start back at the office.” He pointed to a picture of a young woman with black hair pulled into a bun. “Does she look familiar to you?”

How could I forget her? “She worked in Ishval with us, Karen Lund.” Not many female soldiers stayed in Ishval after the incident, but Sgt. Lund requested to be transferred to the base not long after that. She was a hard-worker, if a little snooty. “I didn’t know she was one of the guards.” Her name wasn’t on the list Grumman had given me.

“She wasn’t originally. Two of the guards previously arranged came down with the flu the day of the attack, and she and this man,” he gestured to a photo of a man labelled W.O. Eckart Bateson, “filled in as replacements. I also learned that she transferred back from Ishval to Central about a month after I became fuhrer, right around the time that the members of Parliament started receiving those letters. She was called back by Lt. Col. Vince Seeger. Do you know him?” I nodded. Seegers was in favor of dissolving state alchemy, but had opposed the treaty Grumman had made with Drachma. He supported the stratocracy and opposed recent efforts to separate the military from the legislative process. The fuhrer continued, “We’ve placed Lt. Col. Seeger under house arrest for now, and Sgt. Lund is being held in jail.”

Sheska coughed for attention, surprising both of us. “I recognized Lt. Col. Seeger’s handwriting from his reports in the letters to the politicians.” The fuhrer nodded, this not being new to him. “Sgt. Lund’s handwriting is not in those letters, as far as I’ve been able to tell.”

“Thank you.” Mustang looked to me. “When you come back to work, I’d like you to work with Sheska on the letters, at least to start. She’ll be stopping by to talk about new developments with you after your physical therapy appointments.” Sheska smiled at me, reorganizing the contents of the folder as they prepared to leave.

I smiled back at her, trying to hide my disappointment. I didn’t mind desk work or research, quite the opposite. But I knew that would mean being further away from the fuhrer’s office and Mustang. “I look forward to working with you, Sheska.”

“You too, lt. colonel.”

The fuhrer smirked. “She’s been promoted to colonel now.” He directed his smirk at me. “You can choose your staff when you get back, if you’d like.”

 _My staff?_ It would take some getting used to, the shift between lt. colonel and colonel. I remembered what Havoc had said to me in Ishval, and I hoped he wasn’t trying to push me away. I needed him as much as he needed me.


	26. Conflagration

**December 1919**

**Kaliq**

“Kaliq!” I turned around from where I was standing on the scaffolding to see Rick running over to us. Vedran, standing just a few feet from me, stopped as well. Rick was wearing his newly-earned military uniform, having enlisted last year and gone to the academy. He stopped at the bottom of the scaffolding. “Come down, there’s something I need to talk to you about.” I nodded to Vedran, who picked up where he’d left off on the rafters of the Kanda Gathering House. I climbed down the scaffolding, careful not to disturb the other workers.

Rick gestured for me to follow him away from everyone else, his face set. I thought about how different he seemed, the new air of authority he had. “How is the academy?” I asked.

He seemed surprised by my question, like he had been thinking something else entirely. “It’s good. I’m home for the rest of the year, for break, but I asked Lt. Col. Havoc and Col. Miles if they wanted any help, so I’ll be working for them while I’m here.” Rick didn’t have any family left in Ishval, and his mother had died in the slums before I ever met him. My master had taken him and a few other orphans in until they reached adulthood. Rick had an especially difficult time, as his father was an Amestrian soldier. That hadn’t made it easy for him when he enlisted.

We couldn’t hear more than a hum from the work site when Rick finally stopped. “I’m here to deliver a message from Lt. Col. Havoc. He says that they’ve found the Wardens’ base, and he plans to make a move on it tonight.”

 _They found it?_ My eyes widened and jaw slacked at his words. This was huge. “Did he say anything else?”

“Yeah, he wants you to tell the Council as soon as you can. He said it was close to Maazra, so if things go badly, it might be dangerous for the people living there.”

Of course it would be. And then Havoc still wanted to charge in there. I wondered if he had told Miles his plan yet. Probably not, if he was going through with it. “Thanks, Rick.” He nodded and smiled before heading back to the base. I watched him go, trying to figure out the best way to handle this information. I went back to where the others were working.

“Vedran, I need your help with something.” The boy put his tools down and climbed down from the scaffolding. He stood in front of me, waiting. “Go to my home and bring Mida to the Gunja Gathering House. Tell her that it’s urgent. Okay?”

“Okay.” He ran off, leaving several of the other workers staring at me. I ignored them and walked in the direction of the temple, where Cemal would be working. He’d be able to help me find the others.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The doorbell rang to my apartment. I had just gotten back from another physical therapy session, knowing that the fuhrer was using these meetings with Sheska to make sure I didn’t overexert myself. It’s not like I wouldn’t be able to continue the exercises at home. “Just a minute!” I called, making my way to the door. To spite both him and my therapist, I used my bad arm to turn the doorknob.

There was Gracia, in her simple coat and scarf, smiling at me. “Hello, Riza. Is this a bad time?”

“No, not really. Come in.” I stood back and let her walk in, closing the door behind you. “Here, I can take your coat for you.” I stepped forward, but she waved me off.

“I can get it. Don’t worry yourself too much.” She looked around. “Not much has changed since you moved in, has it? We should go shopping at some point to make it feel more like home.”

I smiled. “I don’t need much.” Chise wandered up to us, looking vaguely disinterested in our visitor. But then, she always liked to put on airs. I had just put their food down, so it surprised me to see her in the hallway. “Would you like to sit down?”

“Sure.” Gracia held out her hand toward Chise, who maintained a safe distance from us. Rejected, Gracia pouted for a moment, then followed me into the living room. “How is your therapy going?”

My smile took on a twinge of annoyance. “Slower than I would like, but that’s the way it always is.” We sat down on my couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you. I’m fine.” She stared at me for a few seconds, as if she were trying to write an anthropological essay on my expression. I didn’t know how to respond, so I tried to ignore her strange look. “Riza, have you gotten the chance to talk about what happened with Roy?”

If I had been awkward and speechless before, it was nothing compared to my reaction now. I took a deep breath to compose myself before asking, “What are you referring to?” There’s no way she could know what happened, unless the fuhrer told her. I doubt he would have done something like that.

“He told you he loved you after you were shot at Grumman’s house.” Gracia was frowning, her eyes worried. “We all heard him.” My eyes widened. _They all heard him?_ I brought my eyes to where my hands rested in my lap, trying to soothe my racing heartbeat. The trouble he might have caused by saying that in front of all those people …

“He shouldn’t have said it.” I was torn between fear for my position and fear for a scandal for him. All it would take would be one person leaking it out to the press, and it would all be over for both of us.

Gracia’s hand rested on my knee. “Don’t worry, no one is going to say anything. Most of the people there already knew, and were preoccupied with their own problems to really think about it. I didn’t mean to make you upset; I just wanted to make sure you were dealing with it all right.”

I smiled ironically, still not completely calmed down. “I’ve been dealing with it.” And now, I would have to talk to him about not sacrificing his career for his emotions. “My friend Rebecca talked with me about it.” _More like talked at me._

She raised an eyebrow at me, making me feel like a child. “Would you mind telling me what you think about it?” She giggled, which threw me off course. She had always been more mature, socially, than me. To see her laughing like that was disconcerting. “I’m sorry, it’s just that Maes used to complain about you two, and he compared you to an owl because you had to completely turn your head around to see the truth. And then you made that face, and you looked like an owl.” Her laugh was contagious, especially when I imagined what I must have looked like.

After a few minutes, we had calmed back down, and she gave me a warm smile, eyes still bright. “All right, so tell me what’s been going through your head.”

My breath caught in my throat again, but the laughter had put me at ease. I looked back down at my hands. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t know you very well. I don’t feel comfortable telling you all of this.” We’d known each other for a long time, but until the past year, we never really talked.

She nodded. “That’s fine. I just know that it’s time for you to deal with it.” I looked back up at her, silently asking for an explanation, and she obliged. “Maes mentioned a few times that you two have a complicated history and that Roy learned alchemy from your father. His feelings, at least, have been around for a while.”

“Did he talk to you about it?” I asked. Maybe I had been wrong about him keeping it to himself. Or maybe Gracia brought it up.

“I prompted him, but he opened up eventually. He’s constantly going back and forth between thinking that you’re trying to let him down gently and thinking that you’re ignoring how you feel to protect yourself. He’s really worried about you.”

I nodded and shifted my eyes away from Gracia to where Amete had settled on the dog bed near the door. “He has other things to worry about.”

Gracia sighed. “Maes was right. You two are hopeless.” She put her hand on top of mine. “He might have other things to worry about, but he can’t focus if something’s wrong with you. If you want to help him, you need to sort this out for yourself. I’m here, if you ever want to talk about it, but I understand if you don’t feel comfortable.”

The doorbell rang again, shattering the moment. “Excuse me.” I slowly stood up, making sure I didn’t aggravate my wounds, and went to the door. Sheska was waiting outside, a folder in her hands.

“Hey, Col. Hawkeye. I’ve brought the folder on the investigation to go over with you.” She looked nervous, fiddling with her uniform and smiling widely.

“Come in.” I stepped back and opened the door a bit wider. “Ms. Hughes is visiting, so is it all right if we wait a few minutes before getting started?” I didn’t want Sheska to know what we were talking about, but I couldn’t very well leave off there.

“Oh, that’s fine.” She looked around my modest apartment with a slight smile. “It’s so roomy in here compared to the dorms.” I said nothing, giving her an appreciative smile. She followed me into the living room where Gracia was still sitting on the couch.

Gracia rose when we entered. “It’s good to see you, Sheska.” She had so much more of a graceful presence than I could ever hope to have. “How is your mother?”

“She’s doing well, enjoying the new assisted living facility that she moved into last summer. How’s Elicia?” The two of them exchanged pleasantries, and I felt left out of the conversation. I just didn’t know what to say to them.

Finally, Gracia said, “If you came by to discuss business, I can go. I need to go pick up Elicia, anyway.”

“Oh, we’re in no rush,” Sheska answered, glancing at me and smiling. “Right, Col. Hawkeye?”

I smiled at her. “Right. But if you need to pick up Elicia, then you should go.” I didn’t want to complicate Gracia’s schedule more than it already was, balancing her job, her daughter, and her relationship.

“All right, well, I’ll see you two later, then.” Gracia said her goodbyes and left, giving me a look so that I understood she wasn’t finished with me yet. Sheska and I went through the folder, and I memorized the names and faces of all the suspected individuals. They were currently investigating a possible connection to the Wardens. I could imagine there being some overlap between the two, considering the views of the Wardens as we understood so far.

After about an hour, Sheska started gathering up the materials. “That’s all I have for you today, but not much has changed in the past two days.” She hesitated. “I wouldn’t expect you and Ms. Hughes to be so close, since she’s dating Fuhrer Mustang.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked.

Sheska shrugged and adjusted her glasses. “I always thought that you and he were involved, and then he started dating her. I just thought that you probably didn’t like their relationship, and her by proxy.”

I raised my eyebrows. “I was the one who set them up in the first place. Ms. Hughes and I have always gotten along, but we weren’t very close until she started dating the fuhrer. Besides, there hasn’t been anything between him and me.” _Well, that’s not really true anymore, is it?_ I blinked slowly, trying to drag that thought out of my head.

“Oh. My mistake.” Sheska smiled and finished putting the folder back together. “So I’ll see you next Tuesday.”

“Yes, and thank you for doing this for me. I know you’re busy with other things, but this is very helpful.” She blushed and stammered out a goodbye.

* * *

**Kaliq**

That night, I waited on the outskirts of Maazra, where I could see other Ishvallans spread out along that district’s edge. The soldiers had come through maybe an hour before, and we were protecting our own. We could hear shouting in the distance that signalled the beginning of the conflict, and we all braced ourselves. The Council had suggested that we gather volunteers to patrol Maazra, to make sure everything went smoothly. Havoc had opposed this, worried that the volunteers would be hurt, but Miles accepted our help. We spent that entire day getting people together and filling them in. The downside to that was the Wardens probably knew about the raid a few hours before it happened, giving them time to prepare, and possibly run.

Suddenly, I heard the wind whistling behind me and ducked just in time to avoid a metal pipe being swung at my head. I turned and grabbed the pipe, staring at a young Amestrian, his eyes wide with fear. Behind him, I could see others running toward us. I yanked the pipe out of his hands and threw it aside, shouting at the others to warn them. The man’s fist rammed into my chest and cut off my words. I brought all of my attention back to him and instantly understood how this would end. I grabbed his arm, twisted him around, and dragged him to the ground. He screamed at me, something about being true to Amestris, but I ignored him as I pinned him with my knee. While I was preoccupied with him, I didn’t see the people kneeling several yards away, taking aim. I did see the tattoo on the man’s hand, though: a circle around a ‘W’. He was a Warden.

Gunshots went off behind me just before I fell on top of the Amestrian. The lower part of my _maawis_ turned from white to red, and my ears stopped working. I saw Cemal running toward me and the soldiers charging past us, but it sounded like I was underwater. The man pushed me off onto the ground, and I grabbed his shirt as he tried to run. He kicked my side, under my arm, but I held on. With my free hand, I touched the ground and activated the tattoo on my arm. A mound of earth rose from the ground and knocked him off his feet, so that he landed a few feet from me and stopped moving.

“Kaliq!” Cemal ran toward me, dodging attackers. I looked down at my leg, assessing the damage. I’d had worse. I took of my sash and wrapped it around the wound several times, pressing down on it. Cemal knelt down next to me.

“It’s just my leg.” He needed to go help other people more injured than me. I looked around and saw the soldiers had formed a line between us and the Wardens with guns. A few others were injured, but most were standing.

“‘Just’, huh?” He took my arm and draped it over his shoulder. “Let’s go.” Pulling me up to stand, we hobbled off toward the residential area. If I hadn’t been afraid of biting my tongue because of the pain, I would have stopped Cemal and made him leave me there. I was fine, and I had my alchemy if things got bad. But every step made me see stars. It must have hit a nerve.

We finally reached shelter behind a building, and Cemal stopped, leaning me against the wall. I slumped down, exhausted just by walking a few hundred feet. Several other injured Ishvallans were gathering there, and Cemal went around, checking on all of them. The worst injury was a shattered pelvis. The boy couldn’t have been more than 17. His whimpering took the fight out of all of us.

After a few minutes, healers started arriving, Agniya being one of them. Her mouth dropped when she saw me, but she went to the more seriously injured first. A man I had seen before, but had no prior dealings with, walked over to me. “You’re Kaliq, right?” I nodded. “I’m Levon. Let’s check your leg.” He unwrapped my sash, now ruined, and nodded as soon as he saw it. “The biggest concern right now is blood loss. It looks like it hit the femoral artery.” He turned around to look for something. “I’m going to need to close the artery.”

Cemal walked back over to me. “You mean surgery?” Levon nodded. “Here? Are you even a doctor?”

“Not exactly. I worked for one, in Amestris. It isn’t that difficult to close an artery.” Levon continued looking around.

“Okay, but can’t you just bandage it up and stop the bleeding with pressure? He’ll bleed out if you cut him up.”

Levon turned back to Cemal. “He’ll bleed out if I don’t.” Looking at me, he said, “Someone should have looked at you sooner. We might not be able to get back to the infirmary. Are you okay with me trying to fix your leg?”

I swallowed, starting to sweat from the blood loss. “Do what you have to do.” I couldn’t leave Mida alone. Not now.


	27. Inflame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is entirely from Hawkeye's perspective, and the next will be entirely Kaliq. Be prepared for the ship.

**December 1919**

**Hawkeye**

I hated sleeping in, so I always woke up before the fuhrer left for the office in the morning. We never interacted before we were ready to leave, or rather in the past few weeks, he was ready to leave, but I could always hear him coming down the stairs. That morning, the morning after Gracia had visited, I never heard the footsteps. 9 a.m. came around, and there was still nothing, no sounds at all. Finally, I put down my book and knocked on the adjoining door between my apartment and his residence.

“Sir?” There was no response, no matter how loudly I knocked or shouted. I wasn’t about to go into his home without permission again. If he was home, he would have answered. Something niggled in the back of my head, but I pushed it down. _He’s fine. He just left early this morning._ I gathered up my dogs for their walk, putting a leash on all three, even though I knew Hayate would stay by my side. Amete and Chise, though, could be a bit troublesome, particularly Amete. I made sure to hold their leashes in my good hand, to avoid any other incidents.

I made my usual rounds, greeting the florist and the cafe barista before heading back to my apartment. I was terrified that I would find military police around the premises, looking for the fuhrer after he didn’t show up in the office. When I turned the corner, the street was empty; almost everyone who lived on that street worked in Central Command. I wasn’t quite put at ease as I slipped into my home, releasing the leashes and letting Amete escape. She ran off into the kitchen and started to whimper. Sometimes, if she behaved herself on walks, I would give her a treat, but I was too distracted at the moment. I looked at the book lying on the end table next to the couch, but knew I wouldn’t be able to read it feeling like this. I could have just called the office, but I didn’t want to interrupt him if he was working. So I pulled out my book of crossword puzzles that I reserved for times when I had trouble focusing and got to work. I completed one and had moved on to sorting out my new financial matters when it was time for my physical therapy appointment. On Fridays, it was always later in the day, so that the fuhrer usually stopped by after he left the office. Maybe he would come today. Holding on to that hope, I fed the dogs and put on my coat, and then someone knocked on my door. It was the fuhrer.

My heart felt lighter when I saw him, relieved that he was all right. But his face was hard. “Hello, sir. I’m afraid this isn’t a good time; I have an appointment-”

“I know. But … I needed to tell you something. Can … is it possible for you to miss this appointment?” He looked at me pleadingly, his eyes a ship in a storm.

If he needed me to be, I could be his anchor. He wouldn’t ask me that if it wasn’t necessary. He knew how badly I wanted to recover. “I’ll call the therapist. Come in, have a seat.” I left the door open and went to the phone in the kitchen, the closest one to the front door. The therapist told me a few exercises I could try on my own - as if I wasn’t doing them already - and that was that. Going into the living room, the fuhrer was sitting on the couch, his elbows on his knees and face in his hands.

“How bad is it, sir?” I sat down across from him. His head jerked up when I spoke, but lowered back into his hands. It took a lot for him to act like this.

For a few moments, he sat with his hands covering the bottom half of his face, staring off at nothing. “Havoc went after the Wardens last night. He found their headquarters and charged in.” My eyes popped. I had no idea they were that far along in the investigation. “Apparently, a group of Ishvallans volunteered to help watch the perimeter, near a residential area. The Wardens found out about the raid beforehand and attacked the Ishvallans. Several people died.” He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He closed his eyes and grit his teeth, his jaw muscles tensing.

“Sir?” His reaction meant that someone we knew was among them, and it was suddenly hard to breathe.

“Fadil and Rick, do you remember them?” My face dropped. Fadil was always friendly and he got along well with Fuery. They bonded over radio technology and were inseparable while we lived down there. And then Rick had just joined the military. I remember when he left, how proud he was. Miles had taken him under his wing, a fellow Ishvallan in Amestris. I nodded. “They, umm…” he started and stopped. I reached across the coffee table with my good hand and took the fuhrer’s in mine. Losing Fadil was paramount to losing Fuery, and then Rick … he had reminded me so much of Alphonse with his smile and bright attitude.

He took a deep breath. “Havoc was hurt, Kaliq too. They’re both recovering, but it was touch and go for Kaliq. Havoc should be fine in a few days. He lost part of his ear, though.”

“What about the raid?”

“They managed to secure the base and apprehended a large number of Wardens. The issue is finding a place to hold them. Some of them were sent to East City, but most of them are crammed into the jail cells in the military base.” He gave me a grim smile and put his other hand on top of mine. “The Wardens are basically finished. And the best part is, one of them is trying to bargain for their freedom with information about the people involved in the shooting up here.”

My eyebrows lifted. If we could wrap up both investigations at the same time, it’d be so much smoother, furthering his goals. “Anything particularly interesting?”

“Yeah.” He pulled his hands back, his smile fading. “They’re planning another attack.” I quickly started an overview of the security measures on his residence, his office, the two blocks between them, his dates with Gracia. _Or what if they went after Gracia?_ “Colonel.” His voice snapped me out of it. “You are still on leave. I’ve got people working on it, so there’s no need to push yourself.”

Of course he would know exactly where my mind went. “The more people you’ve got working on it, the better. This is what I’m good at. Let me help.”

“You aren’t fully recovered yet. The purpose of medical leave is to recover, so until you’ve done that, I don’t want you worrying about this. Other people can handle this, even if they aren’t as thorough as you are.” His eyes were vehemently pleading with a worried frown.

Sometimes, it felt compulsive, going over all of these details in my head and reviewing every last possibility. But it was always for him. “I push myself, sir, because I can’t afford to lose you.”

His face paled, and he tilted his head slightly to the side, as if he had misheard me and wanted me to repeat it, but then he relaxed and smiled, looking away from my face. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?”

“We always have been.” I knew this was not the right time to talk about it; he had plenty of other things on his mind. But I wanted to address it. “Maybe, after the investigation clears-”

“Kaliq and Mida got engaged.” He looked me in the eye and smiled. “I thought you’d like to know that.” I was surprised. Kaliq had been so sure that he didn’t deserve to be reintegrated into the Ishvallan people; I had thought he would never be able to start a family. The fuhrer brought his hand up to the back of his neck, pretending to rub the tension out. “Before you showed me your father’s research, I …” He blushed a bit. “I thought that it might have been a good idea, for us.”

The thought had crossed my mind back then, as well, but only for a brief moment, and only because he was familiar and had a steady job, whereas I was not even finished with school and facing extreme debt. But the prospect had terrified me, more than anything. I had been so scared of him, I hadn’t wanted to be chained to him for the rest of my life, especially that I had a chance to get away after my father died. _Look how that turned out._ I scoffed, surprising him. “I don’t remember us being that close back then.”

He smiled. “We weren’t. You were always so distant. Oddly enough, when I joined the military, your father seemed to like me less, but you seemed to like me more.” I smiled, remembering the relief I felt when he joined the military. I had known my father would never teach him flame alchemy if there was even a possibility of him using it for the government. He shifted, a slight frown on his face. “Why is that? Why were you so distant before, and then friendly after?”

I dropped my eyes. I swore that I’d never tell him about that. At this point, I knew it would just cause him unnecessary pain, and he had enough as it was. “It’s a long story, sir.” I hoped that would at least delay it for a while. Maybe I was stupid for thinking I could keep it from him forever.

He crossed his arms. “I’m done at the office today, and it’s probably safer to be here with you than alone next door, so I’ve got the time to listen.”

“There is the incident with the Wardens, sir, not to mention your paperwork that I know you haven’t finished.” He pursed his lips to the side, looking away from me, and I smiled. “If you spent that much time on the phone today, you must have gotten behind. Besides,” my heart sank when I remembered what his phone calls had been about. “Now’s not the best time.”

He growled and shook his head, sitting up violently. “It’s never the right time. There’s always something stopping us from having a real conversation - a riot, a shooting, an ambush, an investigation, the team, Gracia, my stupid ambition. Just for once, can we just _talk_?”

I blinked several times at his outburst. His eyes were open and honest, which usually only happened when someone he cared about was in danger. It was like he had stuck a chisel into the walls around my heart and hit it hard with a hammer. “Yes, sir.” My voice broke in surprise. I cleared my throat.

“Thank you, colonel.” He relaxed against the back of the couch, sighing heavily. “Sometimes, I feel like I trust you the most and the least at the same time. We don’t really need to talk to understand each other, but then somewhere along the way, we stopped talking.” His eyes shifted between mine, looking for something. “When was that?”

I tensed my brow and shook my head. “We never started talking, sir.” _At least, I didn’t._

His eyes widened just slightly and dropped as he grimaced to himself. “I guess not. Could you stop calling me sir for now, while we’re talking like this?” I nodded. There was no reason for me to keep pushing away at this point. “I guess the only times we actually talked was when you showed me your father’s research, first to learn it, and then to destroy it. And even then, we only talked about alchemy, or what we thought alchemy should be used for.” He smirked sadly and looked up at me. “So that long story you were going to tell me, what was it?”

I lowered my eyes. This was the one thing in my life that no one else knew, not Rebecca, not him. “I’m afraid we’re going to be talking about alchemy again.” I was grateful that there were 30 years in between me and that time, but I could still feel it as clearly as I could feel the pain in my shoulder. “My father perfected flame alchemy when I was six years old, or he thought he did. He went back and changed it later, after …” I paused, and for once, Mustang was silent. “When he thought he finished it, he got excited and tried it out without taking any precautions. My mother was checking on him when he activated the circle, and she was caught up in it. I was in the wood shed, playing, and she came running out of the house. I didn’t know it was her, at first, and I was so scared because she was screaming. It smelled absolutely disgusting. My father came out of the house, just watching her. I realized it was her when I saw him, and I ran over to her. She was shouting at me to stay back.” To this day, I could still hear her screaming, and I stopped, trying to block it out with the silence. I didn’t notice that I had trailed off.

Mustang reached for my hand, and I yanked it back when he touched me, taking a quick breath as my shoulder resisted. He withdrew his hand, and I relaxed again. I knew this was hurting him, and it was only going to get worse. _Might as well get it over with._

“The first thing flame alchemy ever did was kill my mother. Then, my father tried to bring her back. He spent two years researching human transmutation. He tried to teach me alchemy so that I would help him, but I was so terrified of anything to do with alchemy. I never tried to learn, faking it so he would stop. I thought that if I couldn’t do it, he wouldn’t try it.”

“Can you?” he asked. His eyes were wide with dread when I looked up, like he knew where this was going.

“I don’t know.” I remembered that one time I had snuck down into the study after my father had gone to bed. "I know all of the concepts, and I think I might have transmuted something once, but it was only once and it was ... an accident." It wasn't an accident. I had just wanted to know if I could, so I had copied a transmutation circle from one of the books onto a piece of paper and put my hands against it. The circle had glowed blue and the wood had changed shape, but I had convinced myself that it wasn't me.

Mustang frowned, thinking. "If you can, then it's impressive that you were able to fake it. Sometimes, it feels like the circles are just using the alchemists, rather than the other way around." He blinked slowly and absently massaged the scars on his hands. "Did he continue without you?"

 

"Yes. He shut me out completely, working in his study all day. I didn’t mind, though. I was so scared of him and everything he was doing that it was better for me to be away from that. I learned how to take care of myself, and one of my classmates would invite me for dinner a few times a week. I came back from dinner one night, and my father had performed human transmutation. He was lying on the floor outside his study, like he’d been trying to get to the kitchen.” I swallowed, remembering the waxy color of his face and the mass on the floor of his study. “I cleaned up the mess and took care of him. His sickness started then, probably from whatever he lost in the Gate.” I paused, not sure where to go from there. I hadn’t exactly planned on telling him any of this, so I didn’t have a clear plan.

“I imagine that didn’t help your feelings toward alchemy.” Mustang said, his voice hoarse. He wasn’t looking at me, his eyes shifting back and forth on the floorboards, piecing it together. “How long was it before I came to live with you?”

“Two years. That was when I learned to shoot. My father wasn’t able to work, so we ran out of money. I tried to offset some of that by hunting and selling what I got in the town. It helped, but it wasn’t enough. He decided to take on a student after a year. The first one was a boy a few years older than you. He’d already learned the basics. My father found him torturing insects in the backyard using alchemy and dismissed him.” I wondered if it was important to tell him who the first student was. Well, I supposed it was relevant. “The first student was Solf J. Kimblee.”

He drew a quick breath. “What?” I nodded. He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. “I never knew that.”

“As you can imagine, that didn’t make me feel better about alchemy.” He scoffed. “My father decided to take on a student who had no prior training, and several people contacted him. When he got your letter, he had me read it. I think he knew I was afraid of alchemy, and he thought that would mean I would be in favor of someone with no training and no external motivation to learn, no family or money pressuring you.”

“I certainly didn’t have that.” He laughed. “So what did you think of my letter?”

I smiled. “You spelled alchemy wrong. I thought that anyone who couldn’t spell it was harmless.” My smile faded. “My father invited you and Madame Christmas out to work out the details, and I avoided the whole thing. I went out hunting that day and stayed away until after dinner. I think my father was angry at me for it, but he rarely spoke to me about anything so I’m not sure.”

“He never mentioned you that day. I didn’t know about you until I came to stay.” I could tell from his voice that his smile was gone, as well.

“That’s how my father was. He never told anyone more than what he thought they needed to know.” That had gotten frustrating as I got older and he got sicker. “When you came, I had mixed feelings about you. I was curious, because you came from Central and grew up in a bar, but I was more scared of you than anything. You were learning alchemy.” He nodded in understanding. “Whenever you tried to talk to me, I would dodge your questions and usually leave the house to get away. I didn’t want anything to do with you. Then you joined the military and my father got very angry with you. He said he would never teach you flame alchemy, if you were going to use it for that.” I looked up at him. “When he said that, I was so happy. If you weren’t going to learn flame alchemy, then I didn’t have to be afraid of you.”

His brow furrowed. “But you taught me flame alchemy.”

I nodded. “When you told me your dream, I was afraid that you would try to invent flame alchemy on your own. I thought that maybe if you learned how to control it and weren’t experimenting with it, then it would be safer. I gave you flame alchemy because I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.” I took a moment to steady myself. His face paled, and I didn’t want to hurt him more than I already was, so I made sure to continue with as little emotion as possible. “I struggled with that decision for a while after helping you. That’s when I enlisted, so that I would be closer to you to make sure you were using it the right way.”

“Oh god,” he breathed. I wanted to get it all out before letting him dwell on it, so I continued.

“Because of the uprising, I was promoted early and went to front before the alchemists. And then I heard that the alchemists were coming to exterminate the Ishvallans, and I knew you would be coming. I couldn’t find you at first, because you were in a different sector, but I kept up with what you were doing.” I stopped there. He knew the rest of the story, if a different version.

“I am so sorry,” he said, his head heavy. “I knew you didn’t approve of the way I used flame alchemy, but I had no idea …”

“Stop.” His head jerked up at my hard tone. “I may have blamed you then, and I will never be completely over what happened, but I am better now. I learned who the real enemy was, and we took them down.”

He nodded slowly, still working it out. “You asked me to burn it off,” he said, mulling each word over. “Were you still afraid of fire?”

It was my turn to look away. I hated hurting him like this. “Yes. I still am, to some extent.” At the time I asked him, I was beyond feeling anything. I just wanted that hell to be over, by any means necessary. My fear of fire was nothing compared to the burden on my back. Looking at him, I saw that he was wearing the same expression he had worn that day, defeated and helpless. I had to tell him the rest of the story.

“I lived with Rebecca in East City for a month or so after that. We ran into Hughes one day, when he invited us to join the two of you for drinks. I didn’t want to go, but you know he was.” I looked at him with a smile, trying to bring him out of that mood, but he was just staring at me, waiting. I sighed and looked down. “You drank too much that night, and you started talking about your goals. You said that you wanted to make sure that never happened again, and how you would do that when you got to the top.” I remembered the hardness in his eyes, how even Hughes seemed subdued next to his determination. Rebecca had then ruined the moment by laughing at him, having had a few drinks herself. “That was the moment I started to heal. You showed me how to turn what I had done into something I could use to help people. That’s when I put myself back on active duty, and shortly after, you made me your adjutant.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, his chin resting in his hand, eyes unfocused. I waited for him to respond. I had said my part. Finally, he brought his hand down and looked into my eyes with new recognition. “I never knew - no, that’s not quite true. I knew that I was a major factor in your decision to join the military, both before and after the war, but I didn't understand why.” He closed his eyes and bowed his head. “And now, I’ve gone and said what I did, without even knowing what it would do to you. I’m sorry.”

“Please stop apologizing.” I took his hand. “I think we both needed you to say it.” I looked down at our hands and smiled faintly.

He leaned forward to catch my eye. That look I had once avoided, the one where the black of his eyes felt like a warm blanket, captivated me and I followed his eyes with my own, unable to look away. My hand tingled, suddenly too warm, and I couldn’t take a full breath. “Riza,” he grinned and his eyes danced as he said my name, “I love you.”

Something dropped from my throat to my stomach when he said that, and I could feel my mouth betraying me with a smile. My walls had melted away completely as we talked, and warmth spread from my chest down through my arms, to where our hands touched, down my legs so that I felt as light as air. “I love you, too, Roy.”


	28. Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is almost entirely from Kaliq's perspective.

**December 1919**

**Kaliq**

Levon successfully repaired my leg, and I was taken to the infirmary for further treatment. That was not particularly pleasant, since we had nothing for the pain out in Maazra. I passed out at some point during the surgery and woke up on a stretcher being carried by Cemal and an Amestrian soldier. I hadn’t been injured this badly since I was in Central, and then that little Xingese girl helped me with her alkahestry so I hadn't been in pain for long. At the infirmary, the doctors gave me something to make me sleep for a while, as they were also running low on pain medication. Being really tired and in a lot of pain is not enjoyable.

I woke up a few hours later to find Mida sitting next to the bed, knitting. I watched her fingers move the needles hypnotically for a few minutes before she realized I was up. Her eyes were slightly puffy, but clear, and she gradually slowed the pace of her needles before she stopped. “You’re awake,” she breathed.

“Yes.” I smiled at her as her face lit up like the sun. She laid her work in her lap and took my hand, her wide mouth spreading in a grin.

“How do you feel?” Her voice sounded light, like laughter, making it hard for me to concentrate on my injuries to answer her question. Looking away from her, down at my body, I took inventory. Everything from the waist up was fine, if a bit sore. I shifted my right leg, and it felt like I was being pricked with a thousand needles.

I grimaced. “I think my legs are asleep.” My left leg was tingling without movement, and I knew better than to try and move it. I lifted the blanket to take a look at my legs, and realized that I’d have to remove the hospital clothes as well. I lowered the blanket and decided to wait until the doctor came back and Mida was out of the room. We might be engaged, but that was still beyond the limits of our relationship.

She nodded and said, “You’ve been unconscious for a while, so that’s normal. My legs were like that and still are, sometimes. I should probably tell someone that you’re awake.” She stood up, bringing my hand to her lips. She smiled as she kissed my hand. “I’ll be right back.”

I watched her leave, taking in the subtle shifts in her arkhaluk, the graceful way she moved. This had been the first time my life was seriously threatened when I had a reason to look to the future. I was grateful to Ishvalla that I still had that future. I looked around the room, noting that I was the only patient here. The room was bare, except for the books and knitting supplies on the end table, where Mida had set up.

Mida came back in. “Dr. Kohl will be here soon.” She leaned over to kiss me. I brought my hand to her face, threading my fingers in her hair. She tasted differently, like she’d been crying. When she pulled away, her eyes wandered over my face, my neck, and down to my chest. “I love you.”

I cupped my hand a little more, and she leaned into it. “I love you, too.” She smiled and her eyes came back to mine, begging me to stay. I smiled back. “I’m not going anywhere.” I lowered my hand, trailing down her arm to take hold of her hand. “How are the others?”

She lowered her eyes again, no more smile. “Cemal is fine; he was not injured. But a few …” She stopped, closing her eyes briefly. “Suraya’s brother was hurt. He broke his collarbone. A few soldiers were injured as well, Lt. Col. Havoc included. He’s doing well, though.”

“Did we lose anyone?” She didn’t meet my eyes. “Who?”

“Four people died, three of them Ishvallans. Meryem, from the Ziran district, and Fadil.” I remembered Fadil. He’d trailed along with Mustang’s men and had proposed building a radio tower along the trade roads. I hadn’t known he was out there. Mida wasn’t finished, though. She started and stopped, her eyes glued to the white fabric on the bed. “And then, … Rick. He didn’t make it.”

 _No_. My heart dropped. He had just gotten back home, had been so excited to be included in his first operation. I closed my eyes, and Rick’s face appeared with that permanent smile. I’d watched him grow, remembering when I met him in the slums in East City, how cheerful he’d looked even then.

I heard footsteps and looked up to see Dr. Kohl standing in the doorway. “Good afternoon, Kaliq. How are you feeling?” Mida stepped back so he could come closer.

I was still reeling from the news, and it took me a moment to answer. “My legs are asleep, but I’m not in pain right now.” I needed to know how it ended. “What happened last night?” I asked both him and Mida.

“They managed to get the leaders of the Warden and most of the rest of them, from what I’ve heard.” Dr. Kohl pulled back the blanket and turned to Mida. “I’m going to examine his wound, so if you would just wait in the hallway, it’ll only be a few minutes.” She nodded and gave me a sad smile before leaving. He lifted the gown I was wearing just enough to expose the bandages. From my angle, I couldn’t see anything. “We’re going to have to change these in the next hour or so. The bleeding stopped, thanks to Levon, so now we’re watching for infection. Col. Miles wants to talk to you, if you’re feeling up to it.” I nodded. “Okay. I’ll let him know.” Dr. Kohl covered my legs back up and smiled at me as he left. He was among the more skilled doctors in Ishval, and I’d heard he gave up a promising career in Central to work out here. I was grateful for his sacrifice.

Mida came back inside, sitting back down in her chair. “Cemal knows you’re awake, so he’ll come by later, if you’re feeling up to it. What did Dr. Kohl say?”

“Not much. He said they’d have to change the bandages soon, but that the bleeding stopped. Where is Levon?” I asked. I wanted to thank him for what he did.

“The man who treated you in the field?” Mida asked. I nodded. “I’m not sure. I can go find him, if you want me to.” Her voice sounded like she really didn’t want to leave.

“No, it’s all right. We can worry about that later. For now, why don’t you tell me what’s been happening since the ambush.” Mida relaxed and smiled. She told me how the Wardens were being held in the base, but the leaders had been sent to East City, where the jail was more heavily guarded. The Council had spoken to everyone this morning, to keep everyone informed of the situation. It sounded like Miles was handling this well.

Speaking of Miles, he knocked on the open door and walked in. “Good to see you awake.” His hair was a little frizzy, as if he’d been wearing that ponytail longer than normal. Everything else about him was strictly ordered, as usual. He nodded to Mida. “You’ve been filling him in?”

She smiled sheepishly. “As much as I could. He hasn’t been awake long.” She looked back to me and I returned her smile.

“Well, if you’re up to it, Kaliq, I’d like to talk with you. A lot is happening around Ishval right now, and I could use a different opinion.” Mida stood up, but Miles waved her back. “You can stay for this, too. I know I can trust you.” He smiled gently at her, and not for the first time, I wondered what he had been like before he met Gen. Armstrong. He certainly didn’t get this warmth from her. Mida sat back down and Miles pulled up a chair from the other wall.

“The Wardens are finished. There are a few still running around, but we desolated their command structure. Your volunteers really helped us out. I don’t think we could have pulled that off without them. Those that died …” Miles grimaced. He had been Rick’s sponsor to get into the academy, and he’d had high hopes for him, as a fellow Ishvallan in the military. “We will make sure they are remembered.”

He took a handkerchief out of his pocket to clean his sunglasses. “What I want to talk to you about is what happens after the Warden business is cleared up. Of course, there will be a trial, or a series of trials, but that will be run by the Amestrian government this time. But after that, what do you see in Ishval’s future?”

Both of them looked at me, and I suddenly felt very light, like a weight had been taken off of my chest. _We have a future._ Not only that, we had a say in our future. I remembered when Mustang mentioned possibly setting up an Ishvallan government to control this area. It was a definite possibility, a tangible possibility now. Thanks to Osman’s trial, the Council was gaining more authority among the Ishvallans again, to the point that even the lower ranking soldiers followed their commands. But that wasn’t enough. “The Council is getting stronger, but if Ishval is to get back on its feet, we need more infrastructure.”

Miles pursed his lips in agreement and nodded slightly. “What kind of infrastructure?”

“Our own medical treatment, law enforcement, emergency services, management.” I rattled these off, simply naming what I had noticed we lacked. “The military provides us with all of that right now. If we could start separating that, we’d be that much closer to independence.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Independence? That’s quite a leap.”

Mida smiled at him and took my hand. “Ishval was independent of Amestris right up until the war. It was the annexation of Ishval that sparked the initial uprising, because our cultures are so different. Amestris is different now, with Fuhrer Mustang. And independence, if we ever get there, is still several years away. I agree with Kaliq. It’s important that Ishvallans be involved with the running of Ishval. We already have our own economy, thanks to the trade route with Xing. If we start shifting the power from the military to Ishvallans, I think everyone would be better off.”

“It’s hard to argue with that,” Miles crossed his arms. “But the infrastructure of Amestris is run by the military, for the most part. The doctors in the civilian hospitals go to academies funded by the military. The law enforcement is the military police, and the same goes for the firefighters. Every district is run by the military assigned there. Separating the military from that sort of thing is the same thing as being independent from Amestris.”

“The way things are right now, our people don’t feel like Ishval has a say in its fate. Including Ishvallans in on those processes would do as much for our people as rebuilding the temples.” I understood what Miles said, but this was the future that our people wanted. As a Council member, particularly with my relationship with Miles, it was my job to convey that.

He nodded. “It wasn’t my intention to come up with a plan while we were sitting here, just to start the conversation. I’ll contact the fuhrer to see what he thinks. I’d appreciate it if you would discuss this with the Council.”

“We will,” Mida answered. “I also want to ask; has there been any new developments about the Wardens’ trials?”

“Yes, actually. Those who have been identified as leaders will be tried in Central, by the High Military Court. Fuhrer Mustang himself will oversee it. That’ll happen in the new year, though. The holiday week is coming up, and the military closes down all unnecessary offices.”

“Are you doing anything for the holiday, colonel?” Mida asked. I don’t know if this was her intention, but she completely changed the conversation from grave and important to friendly and trivial. It appeared that Miles needed this break, though, from the way he smiled at her.

“None at the moment. I have few family still living. I remember that there’s an Ishvallan holiday around this time of year, though. What is it called?”

“ _Konav Mohejen_ ,” I answered. “The festival of the rainy season. You went to one of the celebrations a few years ago.”

Miles looked puzzled. “Is that the one with the really big fire and the singing?”

Mida laughed. “You could describe most of our holidays like that. This one does have a fire. The idea is to light the fire, and then the rains put it out. It’s sometimes a little difficult to time. It’s the start of the new year, when the old year is washed away, restoring us. You spend it with your family, so you can start the new year together.”

“I don’t really remember that, but I do remember the rains. The flooding is awful.” Miles said, smiling.

I nodded. “I think that’s another reason we spend it at home with our families, so we don’t get swept off down the street.” They both laughed.

Last year, I spent the holiday with Cemal and my master, and a few other monks whose families were gone. This year would be an entirely different experience, now that I had Mida. _Konav Mohejen_ was an especially significant time for new families. Many weddings took place in the few weeks that followed, just after all of the transgressions from the previous year had been washed away. Mida and I had yet to talk about it, but that would be a good time for us.

While I was lost in thought, Miles stood up. “I enjoyed our conversation. Let me know what the Council thinks about what we talked about.”

“Same to you, with the fuhrer. Wish him a happy holiday season for us.” Mida stood up to see him out.

“Take care of yourselves.” Miles waved as he exited.

Mida turned back to me, an eyebrow raised. “That was an interesting conversation.” She walked back over to me and took my hand. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

She smiled. “Well, for one thing, you’re still injured.” I chuckled. “But you got distracted when we were talking about _Konav Mohejen_.”

“Oh.” I looked at our hands, her long slender fingers sectioned by knobbly knuckles linked with mine. “I was thinking about our engagement. A lot of people have weddings right after _Konav Mohejen_.”

“Yes, they do. Is that what you want us to do? That’s at least a month from now, so it’s possible.” She seemed to be waiting for a confirmation from me, but I could see her calculating the time needed for all of the preparations in her head.

I raised her hand to my lips. “I think it would be appropriate. If it’s too soon, though, we can wait.” I kissed her hand.

She smiled and leaned over me. “It’s perfect.”

* * *

 

**Hawkeye**

“Hey, lt. colonel. It’s Edward Elric.” His gruff voice was not what I expected to hear when I picked up the phone. We hadn’t gotten a phone call from him in almost a year, when he called last year to wish us a happy Solstice.

“Hello, Edward. How are you?”

“Oh, you know. Winry’s pregnant, so she’s being kind of bossy. Al told me he ran into you on his way back from Xing.” I smiled. He may have gotten older, but he still knew very little about polite conversation.

“He did. How is he, is he still in Risembool?” I could hear Winry’s voice shouting in the background. They had always had a tempestuous relationship, and I imagined pregnancy did not make that easier.

“No, but he’s coming back for the solstice. Uh, speaking of, do you or the fuhrer have any plans?”

I raised my eyebrows. Edward was being unusually bashful. “Nothing specific. With Mustang being the fuhrer, we’ve gotten a few invitations, but I think the plan was to do something low-key. What about you?”

“Well, that’s why I was calling. Winry wanted to throw a party for everyone, and I forgot to send out the invitations in the mail. So would you guys like to spend the solstice with us?”

I smiled into the receiver. “That sounds nice, but I’m going to need a few more details.” While I was talking, I heard Winry’s voice getting louder and Ed turned to speak to her.

Eventually, I heard Winry’s voice over the phone. “Hello, Riza. I’m sorry about that. Ed’s been acting a little funny ever since I got pregnant. So you are available for the party?”

It was good to hear her voice. “Let me see. When is it?” I pulled out my little organizer. On leave, I had little else to do than update it with every last detail.

“Solstice Eve, around 4. The time can be changed, if it doesn’t work for you.”

I knew without looking that Solstice Eve was free. The fuhrer insisted on having that day completely free of work-related responsibilities, so he could get in some last minute shopping. I was surprised. Usually, I did the shopping for him. “That works for us. And it’s at your house?”

“Uh-huh. It’ll be a bit crowded, but we can manage. Sorry to rush off, but thanks to Ed’s slip-up, we’ve got a lot of phone calls to make. Oh! Can you pass this along to Mrs. Hughes?”

“Sure thing. I look forward to seeing you all again.”

“Thanks, you too! See you in a few weeks!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Konav Mohejen is entirely of my own invention. It's name is a combination of Armenian and Arabic, meaning roughly "Wet Festival". I based the idea off of the Judaic concept of atonement and incorporated the likely climate of Ishval. As far as when it falls, the actual day is determined by the head priest of Ishvalla (currently Elyakim) and officially announced two weeks beforehand. Usually, it's in the first or second week of January, but it can be earlier or later.


	29. Starlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (belated) Solstice!

**December 1919**

**Kaliq**

Most of the soldiers were going on leave for holiday week, and their excitement for their celebrations spread around. Agniya invited all of us over for a special dinner on the Solstice, which was not a traditional Ishvallan holiday. The first time I had celebrated it was the winter before the Promised Day, when Dr. Marcoh and I were gathering my people for the fight in Central. By that point, there were about ten of us, and Dr. Marcoh had the idea to have a small party to celebrate the possible positive changes we could make together. In remembrance of that, I invited Dr. Marcoh to dinner with us, although it wasn’t easy to find him.

Dr. Marcoh was uncomfortable at first, but Yasef and Vedran helped him relax. They remembered him from a few months ago, but this time they weren’t on a mission. I felt a little sorry for the doctor, the way they were questioning him. They asked about everything, from why we called him doctor to his scarred face to alchemy. Cemal seemed uncomfortable when they asked about alchemy, and he tried to change the subject.

“But Cemal- _malim_ , Uncle Kaliq does alchemy,” Yasef protested. “If Ishvalla doesn’t like alchemy, then why is it possible?”

“Just because you can jump off a cliff, does that mean you should?” Cemal answered. “Alchemy is changing Ishvalla’s work, claiming to be the god’s equal.”

Vedran huffed. Marcoh looked over at him, impassive about the discussion of alchemy and religion. “What is it, Vedran?”

Vedran looked up in surprise at the older man. He hadn’t expected to be invited into the discussion. “Well, what if Ishvalla’s work could be better? What if we could use alchemy to make it better?”

I raised my eyebrows at that. “That’s a little blasphemous. Ishvalla makes everything the way it is supposed to be.”

“But what about that time you made the ladder to save Cemal- _malim_?” Vedran asked. “Was that wrong?”

I looked to Cemal, trying to come up with an answer to satisfy the boy. Cemal grit his teeth together. At the time, he had been willing to accept help from my alchemy, considering the alternative. Now, he seemed unsure. “Perhaps it was Ishvalla’s will that Cemal- _malim_ fall into the hole,” Agniya said, before I  had the chance.

“Well then, I don’t think I like Ishvalla,” Yasef said.

Mida put her arm around him. “You don’t have to like him. You just have to trust that he’s doing what’s best for everyone.”

Dr. Marcoh cleared his throat and everyone turned to him. “I didn’t mean to disrupt your lovely dinner. How about I teach the boys a game we played at the Solstice when I was young?” Yasef seemed excited about it, and Vedran reluctant at first, but as he explained the rules, Vedran seemed more okay with forgetting the discussion. Cemal and I exchanged glances, and I knew that wasn’t the last time we would talk about it.

Marcoh occupied the boys while the rest of us cleared the table and made space on the floor for us all to sit. We spent the rest of the night playing games, and then Marcoh gave the boys each a gift. “Don’t worry. I didn’t use alchemy to make them. I decided to pick up a trade, so I can earn a little money.” He produced a wooden dog for Yasef, and its legs moved when you pushed on the tail. For Vedran, he had a flute. I wasn’t sure how much Vedran would appreciate that, but he seemed impressed.

“Maybe you can be a musician.” Cemal laughed as Vedran tried to make a sound come out of the instrument. He eventually succeeded making a breathy low note, and Yasef cheered.

“Even Dr. Marcoh has picked up a trade.” Mida spoke softly to me, so that the others couldn’t hear. “Have you thought anymore about what you want to do with your life?”

I had. After the conversation with Miles, I thought more about Ishval’s future and what we needed to move forward. If we needed more Ishvallan-based infrastructure, we had to start somewhere. “Yes. I’m going to talk to my master about it.”

“That’s good.” For a few moments, we watched the others joking around. Then Mida said, “This _Konav Mohejen_ is going to be a special one, with everything that we’ve been through.” I thought about how I’d gotten closer to Agniya and her family, and Mida. Mustang became the fuhrer and left us, and Miles returned. And there were the Wardens, just barely behind us, and the riot. We lost Suraya and Rick. I joined the Council of Elders. It felt as though Ishvalla was preparing us to start a new chapter in the history of his people.

“It will.” I agreed.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

“Sir,” I handed Fuhrer Mustang his mug before sitting down next to Gracia.

“I AM NOT SHORT!” Mustang shouted as Edward taunted him. As it so happened, Edward had grown taller than the fuhrer in the past year. He wasn’t that much taller, but it bothered the fuhrer. Mustang would never admit it, but he’d always been insecure about his height, being the second shortest male soldier in Central. The first was Breda.

Ed smirked and stood up. “Wanna bet?” He had been as tall as me the last time we’d met. The front door swung open and a breeze flowed in, chilling the rooms.

Winry moved to stand up but Mei beat her up. “Don’t worry about it, Winry.” Winry smiled gratefully at her and lowered herself back down. She pursed her lips as she looked at her swollen belly.

Gracia reached over me to pat her knee. “It’ll all be worth it.” We were all crammed into their living room, squished onto two couches and chairs pulled over from the rest of the house. Al, Sheska, Maria Ross, and Denny Brosch were exchanging stories about Xing, having all traveled there at some point. Elicia was to Winry’s left, following her around everywhere. She was absolutely enthralled by the baby growing inside the older girl, or woman now, I guess. Mei had been sitting on the other side of Elicia, jumping up and down whenever Winry needed something. I knew Winry was grateful to have her around. Fuhrer Mustang, Gracia, and I sat on the other couch, with Ed in a living chair across from us. I had brought Amete with me; she was too young to be left with someone else, so she and Den were in the back to keep them out from underfoot.

Mustang was still glaring at Edward. He crossed his arms and sat back in his chair. “You’ll always be the short one.” I sighed. Did he really have to be so childish now? Gracia laughed.

“Happy Solstice!” Izumi Curtis stood in the doorway in front of Sig. She held a basket with a few covered dishes and Sig had a large box in his hands. Everyone came to greet them, exchanging pleasantries. Winry led Izumi into the kitchen with Gracia to set up Izumi’s food while Ed and Al helped Sig put the box down in front of the tree. Whatever it was, it was almost as tall as the tree itself.

Mei came to sit next to me. “Happy Solstice, Col. Hawkeye.”

“Happy Solstice, Mei. And it’s just Riza.” I smiled at her, marvelling at how much she had changed in five years. She was almost as tall as Winry now, her face longer and more angled than when we had fought together in Central. She had her hair in the same two braids, pinned up on her head.

“I heard about your grandfather. I’m sorry.” She looked toward Al. “Holidays are hard when you’ve lost family.”

I was touched that she would go out of her way for me. “Thank you, Mei. I didn’t know him very well, but it was a shock. How is your family doing?”

She smiled. “They’re doing well. Emperor Ling has made sure my grandmother has the proper medical care she needs, now that she’s getting older.”

“Do you live with your grandmother?” I didn’t know much about her, which didn’t seem right to me, after everything that she’d done.

“Yes. Or I did, before …” She blushed and looked away.

“Before?” I prompted. Winry came back in with her guests and distracted Mei, ending our conversation. Edward came to greet his teacher, who was doting on Winry. When Winry grabbed her hand to let her feel the baby kick, pain flashed across her face for an instant, and then it was replaced with warmth.

Everyone chatted for a while, learning what everyone else had been up to in the past few months. Al gave an alkahestry display just before we sat down to eat, creating an ice sculpture of Xiao-Mei for a table decoration. Winry called us all into the dining room where the food was laid out and we all scattered around with our plates on our laps. Their house was not quite large enough for us all to eat in the same room, but it was wonderfully cozy.

Gracia and Elicia had opted to sit with Winry and Ed, who were talking to the Curtises, so it was just Mustang and myself talking to Alphonse and Mei. When Alphonse sat down with his plate, she raised her eyebrows at him. He just smiled and shook his head before popping a mini-quiche in his mouth.

“I see you’ve grown a beard since the last time I’ve seen you.” Mustang said, giving Alphonse a little smile.

He nodded and swallowed. “Most men grow out their beards in Xing. I didn’t like it at first, but Mei convinced me to keep it.” He turned to me. “When I came back a few months ago, I shaved it off, so I didn’t have it when I saw you in Central. But my face felt so awkward without it.”

Mei laughed and Mustang let out a small chuckle. “It suits you.” He turned to me. “Maybe I should try something like that.”

My eyes widened for a brief second, but I quickly regained my composure. “If you want to, sir.” I remembered the time he tried, when he was still studying under my father. It hadn’t gone well. But if he wanted his patchy facial hair on the front page of all the newspapers, then that was his decision.

“I think you would look so dignified with a Fu Manchu!” Mei piped up, eyes glowing. Mustang gave her a smirk, lost in fantasies about fictional facial hair, and I bowed my head.

Alphonse laughed. “You’ll have to ask Ms. Gracia first.” He took a drink from his cup and glanced back over to where the rest of them were sitting. “How did that happen, if you don’t mind me asking?”

I thought back to the day before yesterday, when Gracia came over to visit. Mustang and I agreed that she needed to be kept in the loop as far as how things stood between us. She had wanted to end things with him, so that we could have a chance, but that wasn’t what we wanted at all. I was perfectly content with things the way they are.

“Honestly, it started out as a convenience thing. She needed the extra support and it didn’t hurt my image to be in a stable, serious relationship.” Mustang gave his nonchalant shrug before settling back down with a more serious expression. “Sometimes I feel guilty, for using her to better my image, or that I’m lying to the public. But she always points out that both she and the public are getting the better end of the deal.” He gave an empty smile, as if he didn’t believe it. Gracia was right, though.

Mei stared at him in surprise for a few moments before turning to me, frowning. I glanced at her, and she tilted her head just slightly, as if asking me something. I knew what she wanted to know, but I just smiled inconspicuously at her. She turned back to Mustang. “I don’t quite understand the way Amestris cares so much about the romantic involvement of their leader. In Xing, the Emperor has a wife from each of the clans, but that’s just a formality. As long as he has a child with each of them, he’s free to be with whoever he wants.”

Mustang half-smirked at her. “That sounds nice. Here, everyone has an opinion on what I should or shouldn’t do, from my clothing choices to who I sit next to at dinner to who I date. It’s worth it, though, to be able to change the country for the better.”

“Yeah, and you’ve been changing a lot. I know the State Alchemy institution was no more than a way for the homunculi to keep track of the more powerful alchemists, but to abolish it overnight is pretty bold.” Al crossed his arms, an amused smile on his face. I wondered if he’d been planning to get his certification at some point. He was certainly talented enough.

“We’ve been held up recently, though, with the situation in Ishval and then the repercussions of what we’ve already changed.” He glanced at me and I put my hand on my arm.

Alphonse was saying “We heard about that,” as Mei leaned over, looking at my arm. Alphonse and Mustang stared at her.

“Would you mind if I took a look at your arm?” She looked up at me, her face set. I could tell she wouldn’t take no for an answer.

I nodded. “It’s my shoulder, so we’d have to go to a different room. Perhaps later tonight, when we’re finished eating.” She nodded, bringing her hand up to her chin, thinking. We spent the next few minutes talking about minor things - Alphonse teasing the fuhrer about his paperwork, Mei occasionally asking questions about the political processes of Amestris. When our plates were mostly clear, Edward stood up and called out for everyone to come into the living room.

Once we were all gathered, he cleared his throat. “Thanks for being here, everyone. It’s great to see you all again. Happy Solstice!” Everyone chorused “Happy Solstice!” back at him. “We know that this year has been tough for a lot of you, but the solstice is a time to remember that light always follows the dark.” He grinned at Winry who returned a sweet smile. I marvelled at how much Edward had grown. He’d always been prone to speeches, like someone else I knew, but usually hated giving them because he thought they were corny. He had grown up into a strong, kind man, even if he still had his outbursts.

Winry got up and wrapped her arm around his waist. “We have little gifts for each of you, to remember that.” Edward knelt next to the tree and pulled out a bag. He reached his hand in and pulled out a small wrapped box. Each had a name on them, and the couple passed them around the room. Sheska received a small flashlight that could hook onto the edge of a book. Breda received a small black light, to help him with his work in the Investigation Dept. Havoc received a new lighter, his name engraved on the side. Gracia received a beautiful tea light holder and Elicia received a set of star-shaped hair clips. Lt. Ross received a Xingese lantern. W.O. Brosch received a set of fireworks, marked for his family’s New Year’s party. Fuery received a small clip-on flashlight that attaches to his headset. Sig Curtis received a packet of hand-warmers. Izumi received a package of hot chocolate, that Winry had made herself. Alphonse seemed surprised to receive a gift: a naturally luminescent rock. Mei received an intricate light-catcher Edward had made. The fuhrer received a lighter disguised as a ring. I received an illuminator for a rifle that switched between three different colors and ranges. I was grateful for the excuse to go back to the shooting range for the first time since Grumman’s party.

Next to me, Mei elbowed Alphonse, who nodded, suddenly looking very serious and possibly a bit nervous. He stood up and walked to the center of the room, turning to face us all. He cleared his throat and everyone fell silent to watch him. The tiniest smile appeared on his face as he said, “There’s something that I’ve been hiding from everyone for a few months now.” He looked at Mei and his smile widened, but his anxiety was tangible, making the rest of us nervous. “Just before I came back from Xing in September, I asked Mei to marry me. She said yes.”

The room erupted after a moment of surprise. Edward threw his arm around his younger brother, who was smiling so big his eyes were squeezed shut. I smiled at Mei and said “Congratulations” before moving out of the way to give everyone else a chance to speak to her. Winry embraced her, staying by her side while everyone came up to her. Mustang shook Alphonse’s hand, but Alphonse pulled him into a hug. I heard the two dogs start barking in the back room at all of the commotion and headed back there. It wasn’t that I wanted to get away from everyone. The dogs had been alone for a while, and it seemed like a good time to check on them.

Amete was scratching at the door and Den sat patiently, whining slightly when he saw me. I knelt down to give Amete the attention she wanted and Den padded closer to me, wuffling softly. I pet him with my other hand and they seemed to perk up. I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see the fuhrer. He knelt down beside me, rubbing Amete’s belly. Her leg started twitching and she rolled around with happiness. “I thought I’d find you back here. Are you having a good time?”

I nodded. “It’s nice to see everyone again.” Den was larger than my dogs, and when he accidentally stepped on my foot, I winced.

“So Al and Mei are getting married. It seems like everyone’s doing that.” He pulled his hand back from Amete, who rolled over and prodded his hand with her nose. She didn’t want him to stop.

“I’m glad for them. They’re good for each other.” I stood up to have greater control over how Den moved around me. My foot really hurt; he must have stepped on me with his automail.

The fuhrer stayed down, staring at Amete. “Are we good for each other?” I looked at him sharply. Was he implying what I think he was implying? Den whined up at me, and I reached down to rub his head.

“I like to think so. Is there a point to this, sir?” As he stood up, I shifted my head toward him, watching his movements out of the corner of his eyes. I could hear the others in the living room, no sign that anyone was coming this way.

“Not particularly, colonel.” His fingers brushed my hand. “I just like to hear your thoughts.” He lifted his hand to my shoulder, resting it lightly so he wouldn’t cause any pain. “Have you thought anymore about letting Mei look at your arm?”

I turned to get a better look at him. “I said I would let her look at it.”

He smiled. “You did, but you didn’t say anything about letting her heal it.” His hand trailed down my arm and he took my hand. Taking a step closer, he whispered, “We’ve known each other long enough for me to understand that you aren’t sure about it.”

I lowered my head, smiling slightly. I liked feeling this close to him. “I don’t want to let this beat me. It’s my own fault that I got hurt; I should have said something when I saw the guard. I have to work through this for that. Using alkahestry feels like taking the easy route.”

He sighed and stepped even closer, until my face was centimeters from his chest. He wrapped his arms around me gently, like he was holding a doll made of paper. I leaned forward into him, pulling him closer with my good arm. “I want you back in fighting condition. If you let her heal you, you can come back to work. I need you there.”

I nodded against his chest, his cheek in my hair. If that’s what he wanted of me, I would do it. I hadn’t thought about how it would shorten my leave, and as much as I wanted to overcome it on my own, his goals were more important to me. We heard footsteps and broke apart, the sudden movement making Den antsy. Elicia appeared in the doorway just as Mustang knelt back down to play with Amete.

“Found them!” she shouted over her shoulder. We rejoined the rest of them as the rest of the gifts were distributed. It turns out that the large gift Izumi and Sig brought was a crib, the one she had made for her own child.

After everyone started leaving, Mei led me to the bedroom where she was staying. Izumi Curtis came with us, to observe alkahestry up close. I slipped off my sweater and heard the gasps behind me.

“What’s that tattoo?” Mei asked.

I knew this would come up, but I felt no shame in letting her know. The crucial parts were destroyed so there was no danger in letting her see it, and it was a part of me. “It’s my father’s research notes. He invented flame alchemy, but he didn’t want it falling into the wrong hands, so he gave it to me.”

Izumi frowned. “What about the scars?”

“They happened during the Ishvallan war.” There was no need for me to give them the whole story.

“They look like burn marks,” the older woman said. “And they only block out parts of it. Was it intentional?” Mei gasped.

I looked back at her, wanting her to see my eyes when I gave her an answer. “Yes.” Izumi nodded and turned to my shoulder. Mei stared at my tattoo for a moment longer before doing the same.

Mei nodded after a short minute and began drawing on the floor. “I can fix it no problem. It’s good that it hasn’t completely healed yet; that makes it easier to transmute.” She finished her circle and looked up at me with a smile. “If you wouldn’t mind lying down on the circle.”

I moved down to sit on the floor. I had done this before, albeit I wasn’t conscious at the time. It would definitely be interesting to see how it had happened. Blue light flashed around me, and I felt my breath catch. I forced my eyes to stay open, despite that slight bit of fear, and my shoulder started to move. I grimaced as the bones shifted around underneath the skin. It felt like the injury was happening all over again. Izumi leaned over us, but it was over as soon as it started. Mei helped me sit up, and I tested my shoulder, rolling it under my other hand. There was no pain. There was no trace of a scar or anything.

“Thank you, Mei,” I said quietly, still examining my arm.  Izumi asked her a few questions while I went through some basic exercises. My arm was as good as new.


	30. Cauterize

**January 1920**

**Hawkeye**

After the holiday week was over, work picked up a bit, everyone having left unfinished work in the office before taking off, the fuhrer included. Havoc returned to Central, along with the MP’s and the rest of his team. The trials for the Wardens had been finalized, with Fuhrer Mustang as the main authority in the case. The press had a field day with the trials, some saying that the government was going too far to punish them for acts against the Ishvallans. I didn’t understand how it was so hard for some people to understand that the Ishvallan people were citizens with just as many rights as Amestrians.

I attended the trials, as the fuhrer’s adjutant. I spotted Elyakim near the front of the room, who represented the Ishvallans for all of this. Considering that the leaders of the Warden had been arrested while attacking, the trial was fairly quick and straight-forward. They were each sentenced to 15 years imprisonment. As one newspaper noted, the punishment for the same crimes under the Bradley administration would have been death. Mustang didn’t want that, though. He wanted to let the people of Amestris know that the government would always treat its citizens with respect, and that they valued life, not death. He also wanted to save the death penalty for the truly terrible crimes, the ones that could not be redeemed.

In his office after the trials, he collapsed in his chair, utterly exhausted. I approached with a folder on the investigation of the shooting and he groaned. “Please just let me have a minute to breathe.”

“I didn’t know you couldn’t breathe and read at the same time.” I smiled and laid the folder down on his desk. “This was sent from the Investigations office this morning. It has information about the interrogation with the member of the Wardens who was also involved with the dissidents up here.”

He sighed as he pulled the folder closer to him. “Anything interesting?”

“They’re planning another attack, since their previous attempt to kill you failed.” He frowned and stared at me. “What is it, sir?”

“You seem pretty calm to be discussing an assassination attempt.”

I pursed my lips. “I don’t think that getting emotional about it would help. We have the information in front of us, something we can work with, and plenty of resources at our disposal.”

He looked down at the papers, flipping through them to read a word here or there. He closed the whole folder and looked back up at me. “You’re not calm because you think we can handle it. You’re calm because you know how we’re going to handle it.”

He smirked, leaning back in his chair. I raised an eyebrow. “And how exactly are you planning to handle it?”

“Do you remember Operation Fireworks, colonel?” I smiled slightly, feeling reassured that we were still on the same wavelength. Shortly after Grumman became the fuhrer, a small group of people who disliked the way he was handling the government had tried to overthrow him. Their initial attempt failed, but they had tried again. Grumman had asked us to handle it, but he didn’t want to start his rule with a slew of bloody skirmishes. So Mustang performed a huge display of flame alchemy that looked really dangerous but never actually hurt anyone. In the end, they had all surrendered.

“How would you create a situation like that?” I asked. Before, we had lured them into part of Central Command that had yet to be rebuilt. There wasn’t really a good place now.

He looked back into the folder. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll keep working on it. In the meantime, we have to keep them interested. We need to move to the next step toward our goals.”

It had been months since the last big move, and so much had happened in between. “What do you suggest?”

He closed his eyes and smiled. “Making the chief executive of the country a publicly-elected civilian. The next step is electing a president.”

* * *

**Kaliq**

The day before Elyakim left to participate in the Wardens’ trials in Central, he announced the date of _Konav Mohejen_ : January 14. It was later than usual, the latest I could remember. But if that was the first rain, then that was the date. I said something to Cemal at dinner one night, and he just brushed it away.

Things had been strained between us ever since the Solstice. I was struggling with it, myself. Alchemy is a sin, meddling in the works of Ishvalla and twisting the minds of humans so that they believe themselves equal to God. However, alchemy could be used to help others, as I saw so many times in Amestris. Regardless of that, it was a part of me. Mida and the others had helped me understand that I should not be ashamed of myself, but does that include the tattoos on my arms? Elyakim- _malim_ was away, so I could not ask him about it during the preparations for the holiday. I said nothing to the others about it for fear that they would reject me. Ishvalla, please grant us clarity. Wash the dust from our eyes so that we may find your truth. The prayers for the rainy season had never felt so right.

As the festival grew closer, Mida helped me collect the molded straw from the floor. We would exchange them with those we had wronged as a symbol of our transgressions. Once we had given all of the straw away, and received straw from those who had wronged us, we would put the straw in a fire together, to symbolize forgiving each other, and then the first rain would put out the fire, to symbolize Ishvalla’s forgiving us. This is the first year I participated in this ritual since I returned to Ishval. I had so much straw to give for my first Konav Mohejen as a brother again.

Agniya wanted us all to be together for the feast following the bonfire, which was a time you spent with the people with whom you wanted to start the new year. I knew I’d have to settle this uncomfortable tension between Cemal and myself before then. The trials in Central ended and my master returned, only four days before the holiday. I immediately sought his counsel.

Sitting before him in his home, I explained everything that had happened and everything that I was thinking. He had always made me feel like a child when I spoke to him, not that I was immature and ignorant, but that I could open up to him and express my emotions fully, in a way that I couldn’t with others.

He listened quietly as I talked, never changing his expression. When I was done, he said, “After the events of the Promised Day, I did some research into this matter myself. Alchemy claims to manipulate the energy produced by the natural movement of the ground. Is Ishvalla not responsible for the creation of that energy?” He smiled. “Do you remember when I took you and Cemal hunting?” I nodded. We had both been young, just beginning our training to be monks. “When we killed the rabbit, what did I say to you?”

“Everything that made the rabbit a rabbit was the work of Ishvalla, and therefore should be treated the same. To use just a piece of the rabbit and leave the rest to waste away was disrespectful.” I remembered skinning the rabbit and removing the bones. My master had placed the organs in jars for medicinal or agricultural purposes. It had been messy, but we saw how every part of the rabbit had a purpose for us as well as the animal itself.

My master nodded. “It is the same with alchemy. The energy is present, waiting to be used. It is the work of Ishvalla, a gift. We should use our talents to the fullest to show our gratitude.”

“But Master, Ishvalla teaches us that alchemy is wrong. It places the power of creation into the hands of humanity, something that should only be the power of God.” I wanted to accept his words, but I couldn’t.

“My son, the texts from which we teach were written and influenced by the hands of humans. The part that forbids alchemy is written by a man who interpreted the words of Ishvalla for himself, to justify his fear and violence. Ishvalla himself does not mention alchemy, just that creation is sacred. Alchemy does not create matter. It changes. Just was we change wheat into bread, or wool into cloth. And we learned, on our journey, that in order to create something, alchemists must use an extra power source. That power source is wrong. Using that is sinful, not alchemy in its basic form.” He placed his hand over mine. “I will speak to the other priests and the Council. It is past time for us to have discussed this.” I could hear my dismissal and stood. As I pulled back the curtain to leave, he said, “As for Cemal, it is the right time of year to reconcile with each other. Speak to him after we have discussed it in the Council.”

* * *

**Hawkeye**

I knew the change from a stratocracy to a democracy would be difficult, but this was ridiculous. We were writing the constitution from scratch, not three full days after the fuhrer spoke to me about the elections. Breda had come from the archives to help us, and Speaker Duval was included as one of the writers. We agreed that it would also have to be verified by the Cabinet before it would be sent to Parliament.

By the end of the day, we had made almost no headway, since Duval and Mustang could not agree on the wording of pretty much anything. The sun had set hours ago, and I was getting hungry. Duval and Breda had gone back to their offices to work on other things. The fuhrer couldn’t seem to focus on anything else, because when I went to convince him to leave, he was still poring over the constitution.

I knocked on the door to get his attention. “Sir,” He looked up at me, eyes slowly refocusing as he blinked a few times. I hadn’t realized he had gotten to that point. “It’s late. You’d be better off if you got some rest and looked at it again tomorrow.”

He looked back down at the papers, still blinking more than normal. Finally, he nodded. “You’re probably right, colonel.” He started putting things back into folders - the wrong folders, I quickly realized. I hurried to correct him and he just gave me a sour look. After putting everything back in its place, we locked up the office and headed back to the residency.

In the car, Mustang leaned over to rest his head on my shoulder. I stiffened for a moment, thankful that all of the fuhrer’s vehicles had tinted windows. “Is this all right, colonel?” he asked, his voice deeper and slower, less formal even though he used my title.

I relaxed and tilted my head slightly so that it rested on his. “Yes, sir.” We spent the rest of the ride like that, not saying a word. I heard faint snoring just before we reached the residency, which ceased abruptly as the car came to a stop. His head shifted a bit on my shoulder, settling in. I sighed with a smile.

“Sir, we’re home.” He grunted in reply and lifted his head. His cheek was red from where it rested on me and his hair was ruffled. He cleared his throat and adjusted his uniform before putting his hand on the latch. “Hang on.” I said, leaning over to fix his hair.

I pulled away to examine his appearance, and his tired eyes were watching me warmly. “Am I presentable?” I smiled at his flirtatious tone.

“You’ll do.” We got out of the car and walked to the door. I nodded to the driver, who saluted and took the car back to the command center. We walked into the lobby together, past the guards at the front door.

In the hallway, just before we reached his door, he reached for my hand and just barely brushed it. “Good night, colonel.”

I glanced behind me briefly to make sure no one was there before taking his hand. “Good night, sir.” We let go and Mustang entered his room. I saluted him until he was out of sight and the door was closed, as usual.

* * *

**Kaliq**

I had remained silent during the discussion with the Council. In the end, they accepted Elyakim- _malim_ ’s changes to the doctrine, and prepared an official statement. Cemal said nothing to me, even though he walked back together with Mida and me. I knew he needed time to process what had been said.

The next few days were spent preparing for the ceremony and the wedding. Mida moved to Agniya’s home until after we had been married, and my house felt strangely empty. It gave me time to reflect and remember the wrongs I had committed. The night before the ceremony, I went through the straw. I would give one to Agniya and each of the boys, for expressing anger under their roof and partaking of their food. Of course, I would give one to Mida, for thinking inappropriate things about her. That is a tradition for an unmarried couple. Then, there are the members of the Council, for feeling anger toward them, and my master, for praising him too highly. I would give one to Levon, for bleeding on him. As for those who have passed, I would give one to each of those who died during the raid on the Wardens, for causing their deaths. And then, I would give one to Cemal for causing strife between us. The rest of the straw would be added to the fire at Agniya’s home tonight, where we would be having our feast. With it all laid out in front of me, where I could touch it and hold every piece in my hand, I could feel all of it binding around my heart.

 _Ishvalla, I am a wrong-doer, fallen short of your hopes._ Suraya’s body followed by Agniya’s face and Yasef’s screams, Osman’s shouted speech and the burning building, Cemal’s accusing face, and Rick’s smile circled around my head as I lifted my head up to look to the sky. _Because of my actions, others have suffered. Tonight, they are remembering the wrongs they have done, as I am. Be with them, make your presence known to them, and lessen their suffering._ I bowed my head and took even breaths to ground myself and calm down before blowing out all the lights in the house and retiring.

I woke in the morning after a restless night and had a glass of water. Until the feast tonight, I would fast from anything other than water, but Toby was allowed to eat since he was not participating. I gave him his morning meal. I said my morning prayers and dressed before gathering the straw and going to the temple. I saw Cemal among the monks, who were offering assistance to the people coming to worship. Our eyes met briefly, his just as heavy with intent as mine. I moved to a mat toward the middle of the crowd and laid out my straw in front of me, as others had done around me. I sat on my knees and lowered my head until it was almost touching the ground and recited the ancient prayer.

“ _Kafi heru atoyunda. Andahde kale kafiyi dembiyal, mevye, ve parasi naq wadne. Deeq kajut vu hushun falaka. Ishvalla, anlasha im wadne._ ” _Forgive my sins. Help me to be forgiving of others, great one, and prepare the hearts of those I have wronged. Grant me courage to face my actions. Ishvalla, be in my heart._  As more of my brothers and sisters came to the temple and began their prayers, the murmurs created a sort of white noise in the temple. Eventually, we all fell into a rhythm, chanting together the words we had learned as children. The chanting stripped away all sense of time. Finally, my master rang a deep bell at the front of the temple.

“ _Yerekhan, Ishvalla anlashev tam bihotaq wadne. Vaher ve hahlan miskat betera_.” _Children, Ishvalla is all throughout your hearts. Go and be with each other_. At his dismissal, we rose from our mats and collected the straw. I searched through the crowd and found Mida with Agniya and the boys. I gave my straw to Mida, which she reciprocated. We walked together to the fire starting in the square in front of the temple and tossed them in. Agniya, Vedran, and Yasef were a few steps behind us, each carrying straw from each other to throw in. I waited until they had finished before approaching them and looked up at the sky to check the weather. Clouds had rolled in while we were inside.

“Sister, brothers, I have wronged you. I became angry in your home and caused you discomfort. Please accept my offering of reconciliation.” I held out straw to each of them and they accepted.

Agniya nudged Vedran who said, “Brother, I accept your offering and forgive the wrong you committed against me.” He looked back to his aunt, who nodded, before he continued, “Brother, I have wronged you. You offered me shelter when I was in need and I was not respectful as your guest. Please accept my offering of reconciliation.” I remembered that Vedran and Yasef had stayed in my house while Agniya was at the hospital with Suraya.

I took the straw that he was holding out to me, and I said, “Brother, I accept your offering and forgive the wrong you have committed against me.”

Together, we turned toward the fire and said, “Ishvalla, we have wronged each other, and we have accepted each other again as brothers. Now, we lift up our wrongs to you in the hope that you will forgive us.” We tossed the straw into the fire and watched them blacken and crumble.

I turned back to Agniya, who was waiting for us to finish. She surprised me when she started confessing to me. “Brother, I have wronged you. When my wife died, I felt unjustified anger toward you and laid false blame. Please accept my offering of reconciliation.” Her face was still, unnaturally so, as she held out the straw.

I took it. “Sister, I accept your offering and forgive the wrong you have committed against me.” I reached for her hand before we turned to the fire, which she took and held with a firm grasp. We completed the ritual together and they moved around through the crowd, offering and receiving straw.

My master came toward me from the front of the room, holding straw in his hand. “My son, I have wronged you,” he started. I listened with wide eyes, humbled that he would ask my forgiveness for anything. “I took advantage of you when you were confused and vulnerable, when I asked you to join the Council of Elders. I laid false blame on you when my ward, Rick, died. Please accept my offering of reconciliation.” He held out his hand and I took the straw, slowly, still processing his words. I felt shame that he had blamed me, but I could not feel that now. This was not the time for that.

“Master, I accept your offering and forgive the wrongs you have committed against me. Master, I have wronged you. I have praised you too highly for a mortal man. I betrayed your trust when your ward died under my care. Please accept my offering of reconciliation.” I struggled to meet his eyes as I spoke, but I owed him that out of respect.

“My son, I accept your offering and forgive the wrongs you have committed against me.” He stepped around me to face the fire and I followed him. “Ishvalla, we have wronged each other, and we have accepted each other again as brothers. Now, we lift up our wrongs to you in the hope that you will forgive us.” Others had approached my master, including Cemal. He looked at me with brief surprise and possibly fear before lowering his eyes. My master turned his head to me and nodded. It was time for us to talk.

I walked to Cemal and waited for him to meet my eyes before I started. He looked at me with apprehension, waiting to hear me. “Brother, I have wronged you. I broke the word of Ishvalla and compromised your relationship with Him. I offered you no remorse and caused you discomfort when you confronted me. When we spoke, I harbored negative emotions toward you and damaged our relationship. Please accept my offering of reconciliation.” I raised the piece of straw between us.

Instead of taking it, he responded, “Brother, you have wronged me. And in the same way, I have wronged you. I cannot accept your offering until you have accepted mine.” He was following a variant of the traditional confession, which I had never done before, and only seen once. “When you broke the word of Ishvalla, I was blinded with anger and broke the word of Ishvalla in my heart. I laid false blame on you for my own wrong-doing. When I confronted you, I did not respect you as a brother and harbored negative emotions toward you which damaged our relationship. The word of Ishvalla has now been amended, and I am now the only one who has broken it. I let my anger control me and cloud my judgement. Please accept my offering of reconciliation.” He lowered his head in deference as he held out his hand.

I took the straw. “Brother, I accept your offering and forgive the wrongs you have committed against me. Likewise, in the light of Ishvalla, please accept my offering of reconciliation.”

Cemal lifted his head and smiled as he took the straw. “Brother, I accept your offering and forgive the wrongs you have committed against me.”

We turned to the fire and tossed the straw in. “Ishvalla, we have wronged each other, and we have accepted each other again as brothers. Now, we lift up our wrongs to you in the hope that you will forgive us.” Both pieces of straw cracked in two pieces as the fire consumed them, a sign from Ishvalla. I turned back to Cemal and embraced him, a great heaviness gone from my heart.

The time passed and I gave out the rest of my straw until only the straw for the dead remained in my hand. Many people were waiting around the edges of the square, their confessions completed. I approached the fire alone and held out the three pieces. “Meryem, my sister, Fadil and Rick, my brothers, I have wronged you. When I volunteered that Ishvallan people help with the raid on the Wardens, and the Wardens came after us, I placed you in harm’s way and caused you injury. I aided those who ended your life. Please accept my offering of peace.” I threw the straw into the flames. “Ishvalla, I have wronged those who have passed and have sought their forgiveness. Now, I lift up my wrongs to you in the hope that you, on behalf of them, will forgive me”

I stepped back from the fire to let others finish and found Mida in the crowd. I stood next to her in silence. She had been crying. On _Konav Mohejen_ , it is tradition to let your tears fall to the ground rather than wipe them from your face as a symbol of forgiveness like the rain. I took her hand as we waited. The last person stepped back from the fire and Elyakim- _malim_ stepped forward with his hands raised.

“Great Ishvalla, we have confessed our wrongs to one another and stand before you a whole community, one family. Bless us with your mercy so that we may know your peace.” For a few minutes, no one moved. Then I heard the girl next to me gasp and reach up to touch her headscarf. All around, a soft pattering grew louder as raindrops became more frequent. Within minutes, it was a downpour and we were all soaked.

I whispered, “ _Illah baq mahad_.” _Thanks be to God_. Mida said the same beside me, moments before Agniya grabbed her hand. She pulled her off to where several women had already gathered as they removed the headscarves to let the rain soak into their hair. Cemal shouted and started running around the fire, twirling as he ran. Others joined him, laughing and cheering. Ishvalla had forgiven our sins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All Ishvallan is based on a combination of Arabic, Armenian, and Somali. Konav Mohejen is loosely based on the Jewish holiday, Yom Kippur.


	31. Match

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who supported me as I was writing this chapter. It's twice as long as any previous chapter, making this the longest one of the entire story.
> 
> Notes on culture and other things at the end.

**January 1920**

**Hawkeye**

Between Speaker Duval, Capt. Breda, and Fuhrer Mustang, the new constitution was drafted in nine days, with all of them working up until the day before we left for Ishval. Last week, Kaliq had called the fuhrer and asked him to be a member of the bridal party. He would not be available for the days of preparation, unfortunately, so he had to decline. After working it into his schedule, we would be able to make time to be down there for the three main days of the ceremony. I was glad of the break, not for myself, but because his health was suffering with all the stress from the constitution and trying to plan a trap for the dissidents within the military.

The train ride was similar to when we went to Risembool: a private car for the fuhrer and his detail, which consisted of Gracia, Elicia, me, and three armed guards. I had wanted more security, but he didn’t want to flood Kaliq and Mida’s wedding with Amestrian soldiers. We were going in civilian clothing, rather than uniforms, because no amount of amity between the fuhrer and Kaliq would lessen the impact of a former State Alchemist attending an Ishvallan celebration wearing his blues. Nevertheless, the dissidents in the military were still planning an attack. He insisted that the three guards would be enough, and that the two of us could take up arms if we needed to. I was annoyed that he wasn’t taking this seriously enough, remembering that our last fight had been along these lines and was never resolved. A pesky shooting had interrupted us.

Elicia loved the train ride. One of the guards, Warrant Officer Brendon Langley, apparently grew up around the trainyard and could answer all of her questions. She did get bored eventually and pestered all of us into playing Green Glass Door, a word game she had learned at school. She had so much more energy than any of us; we were all wishing for a nap after the fourth hour while she was still looking for ways to entertain herself.

I had pulled out a book when she had started to quiet down, hoping to get further along on my reading list. After a few minutes, she came and sat next to me. She stared at me with a smile on her face until I gave in. “Yes?”

“Do you like weddings?”

Her question surprised me. “I haven’t been to many weddings, but in general, yes. What about you?”

She grinned, showing as much teeth as possible, just like her father. “I love weddings.”

“Elicia, remember I told you that this wedding is a little different than the ones you’ve been to before,” Gracia said, not looking up from her knitting.

“I know,” the girl chimed. She kicked her legs a little under the seat against the wood. I went back to reading, accustomed to drowning out the little fidgety noises thanks to the fuhrer’s work ethic. After a few minutes, Elicia started again. “Do Ishvallan brides still get to wear pretty dresses and dance?” She didn’t ask anyone in particular, tracing the pattern on her jumper with her finger.

Mustang answered, “Yes, but their dresses and dances are a little different than the ones you see in Amestris. The bride and groom wear gold outfits, and the dances are more like line-dancing.” Elicia pestered him with continuous questions about Ishvallan weddings, exhausting even his knowledge on the subject.

When we arrived, the sun had already set, making the trip seem even longer than it was. Col. Miles greeted us and saw to it that we were housed. Or so we thought. Gracia, Elicia, and I were unpacking in a spare room in the recently-rebuilt barracks when a young Ishvallan woman knocked on the open door. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head, highlighting the curve of her face. I remembered her - Suraya, no - Agniya.

“Hello. Can I come in?”

Gracia looked up. “Oh, yes, of course.” The woman nodded her head and stepped inside the room.

“I’m Agniya, Mida’s _malkhizad_. You must be Ms. Hughes.” She smiled sweetly at Gracia.

“Yes, and this is my daughter, Elicia.” Elicia grinned at Agniya, whose smile widened in response. I tried to remember if Agniya had children, but was drawing a blank.

“Hello, Elicia. It’s nice to meet you.” Agniya smiled at her. “How old are you?”

“Nine and a half.” Elicia said proudly.

“Nine and a half, huh? Wow, you’re so grown up. I have a nephew about that age.” Agniya turned her attention to me.  It’s good to see you again, Col. Hawkeye. I’m afraid there’s been some confusion about where you’ll be staying. You see, it’s tradition for the women attending the wedding from another district to stay in the house of the _malkhizad_ , with the bridal party. Col. Miles wasn’t aware of this. Of course, if you’re more comfortable here, that’s fine.”

I looked to Gracia. She had never been to Ishval before, and she would be deciding for herself and Elicia. “I don’t want to impose on you.” As usual, she answered with grace.

“Oh, it’s no trouble. My boys will be staying with Kaliq’s _malkhizad_ , so there’s plenty of room. Besides, it doesn’t really feel like a wedding unless we’re all tripping over each other.” She laughed.

“If you’re sure it’s all right. I mean, we are Amestrians.” I saw no point in beating around the bush, and Agniya seemed to be someone who liked to speak plainly.

She smiled. “You aren’t the only foreigners here, you know, nor the only Amestrians. There’s a Xingese girl who arrived yesterday with an Amestrian boy. Then there’s Dr. Marcoh, but he’s not staying with the groomsmen, and several men from a circus. Kaliq traveled all over and made many friends everywhere, so it’s not surprising that a lot of different people would be here.”

Gracia looked at me in surprise and I just smiled in return. Of course Mei and Dr. Marcoh would come, considering how much time they spent with Kaliq in Amestris. “Thank you, Agniya. If it’s tradition, then we’ll accept your invitation.”

We packed up our things again and followed Agniya out of the barracks, and I stopped for a minute to explain things to the fuhrer, only to find that he was moving to stay with Kaliq’s _malkhizad_ as well. I was worried again for his safety, but he would be staying in a crowded house with Kaliq and Alphonse, so I tried to quiet my fears.

* * *

**Mida**

I was so grateful that Kammani was staying with us during the preparation and ceremony. She would serve as both my guardian and my counselor, which was a bit unusual, but as the Amestrians say, desperate times call for desperate measures. Although I’d be reluctant to call my wedding a ‘desperate time’.

Agniya seemed even more energetic than normal, going into hostess mode. After the first day of _Konav Mohejen_ , when Kaliq finally asked Cemal to be his _malkhizad_ , she and Cemal rushed everywhere, confirming the spaces and the times for the ceremonies, preparing their houses for the wedding guests, contacting the guests who lived far away, finding or making the clothing for the main ceremony, cooking, and so many other things. I tried to help, but Agniya would push me away, wanting this to be as close to a traditional Ishvallan wedding as possible. There had been many weddings in the past few years, but they had all been adapted in some way - most incorporating Amestrian traditions or shortening parts because of resource shortages and lost family members.

Thankfully, she and Kammani let one tradition go. They let me see Kaliq in the days leading up to the ceremonies (even if he wasn’t allowed into Agniya’s house and I couldn’t visit him at Cemal’s). I think Agniya only let me spend time with him to get me away from the house so I’d stop trying to help her. I heard from him that the first safraya had arrived - three of the men he had traveled with around Amestris. He told me that they had formed a circus together after everything had settled down. I thought that they might be able to perform a little show for everyone, but Kaliq just laughed. Apparently, one of them is not entirely happy with his new job and thought of this as a kind of break from all that.

Two days before the first ceremony, our first _safraya_ arrived. She was a Xingese princess, about 17 or 18 years old. I remembered her from several other times she has passed through Ishval on her way to Amestris. She always stopped to say hello to Kaliq, having grown close to him on her first trip around the country. Mei had just gotten engaged herself and her fiance, one of the Elric brothers, was staying with Cemal. Cemal’s house was very full already, and the last _safraya_ hadn’t even gotten here yet. Agniya’s house had the same number of people as usual, although we were still waiting on a few more.

The day before the first ceremony, the house bustled with activity. Agniya could no longer deny my help with all of the work that had to be done. Kammani worked all day on my _zhilet_ , touching up the embroidery around the edges. When I took a break mid-morning, I looked over her shoulder to see what she had designed.

The bride’s _zhilet_ is embroidered to tell the story of their relationship, from birth up to the wedding. The left side told the story of the groom while the right side was for the bride, and the base of the _zhilet_ was for the relationship itself. Kaliq’s began with the symbol for dedication to Ishvalla, for Kaliq’s time as a monk, then the symbol for war. Kammani followed that with the symbol for loss and wandering, losing faith, then friendship, clarity of purpose, the symbol for Ishval, then returning, shame, family, and leadership.

My side started with family, then war and loss. Fear and loneliness came next, and I marvelled at how much Kammani had gleaned about what happened to me after the war ended. I remembered hiding from the soldiers in East City, hearing reports of Amestrians murdering any Ishvallan they found. The _zhilet_ then had friendship, and I remembered when I met Suraya again for the first time in years. She pulled me away from my hiding spot just seconds before some soldiers found it. She led me to an abandoned cellar, where several Ishvallans had gathered. That was where I met Agniya again, with her two nephews. The symbols following friendship were children, from the time Suraya, Agniya, and I would go out to find Ishvallan children who had escaped the war only to become homeless in Amestrian cities. Then, the _zhilet_ had the symbol for returning home, then teaching, injury, and leadership.

The base of the _zhilet_ began with the combination of temple and gift, when I used to bring baked goods to the monks at the temple, including Kaliq, then separation caused by external conflict, mutual friends, family that isn’t blood, shared grief, filling new roles in the community, caregiving, and responsibility. I smiled. Our story looked beautiful, outlined in red on the soft gold.

Mei called me back, needing an extra pair of hands with the dough for the _semseq_ , and I kept busy with preparations for the rest of the day, even giving Agniya a break from mixing the _kilan_ paste so she could go greet the last safraya to arrive. When they arrived, we all stopped to meet them.

Ms. Hughes and her daughter entered first as Agniya held back the curtain for them, followed by Col. Hawkeye. The two women seemed exhausted despite the polite smiles on their faces, but Elicia seemed excited, taking everything in.

“Good evening,” I said, stepping foward. “Let me help you with your bags.”

Ms. Hughes smiled gratefully, but Agniya interrupted, “Mida, you can’t do that. Mei, why don’t you take Ms. Hughes’ bag.” The girl stepped forward and accepted the bag Ms. Hughes held out. I sighed, recognizing that Agniya had gone back to not letting me help. “Let’s get you settled in before we introduce you.” Agniya led them to the stairs; the rooms they’d be staying in were on the second floor. “I’m sure you’re hungry, as well. We’ve got some stew prepared. Now, Col. Hawkeye, you’ll be staying with Mei…” Their voices trailed off.

Kammani laughed. “Now, it feels like a wedding, even if the _safraya_ are foreigners.” I smiled half-heartedly, put off that Agniya had rejected me. Kammani looked over at me, a hand on her hip. “Agniya is doing this as much for herself as for you, you know. She and Suraya didn’t get a proper Ishvallan wedding, since they got married in the slums. And tomorrow, you’ll have plenty to worry about, so enjoy the time you have to relax.”

Agniya and Suraya’s wedding had been beautiful, despite the circumstances. Their outfits had been borrowed, they only had one ceremony, and there wasn’t enough room to go around for them to have separate vigils, but the love on their faces had made up for everything. “Thank you, Kammani- _malim_. I know she appreciates your help.”

After a few minutes, they all came back downstairs, the house filling with sound as we all sat around the table and shared the stew. Ms. Hughes insisted I call her Gracia, as Col. Hawkeye asked us to call her Riza. I wasn’t sure I could ever be entirely comfortable calling her that, but Agniya and Kammani easily adjusted. I just avoided calling anyone by their name for the rest of the evening.

When Mei and Agniya cleaned after the meal, Elicia sidled up next to me. I smiled sweetly at her, seeing the admiring light in her eyes. “Yes, Elicia?”

“Are you excited?”

I laughed and my smile widened. She certainly was. “Very.” I remembered how curious I had been when my sister got married and how I’d always been entranced by the brides I had seen as a child. “But I feel more happy than excited.” Elicia’s smile raised, making wrinkles around her eyes.

Gracia laughed. “That’s how I felt when I got married. Although my husband was excited enough for the both of us.” Col. Hawkeye raised an eyebrow slightly and smiled as she nodded in agreement.

Kammani asked, “Have any of you been to an Ishvallan wedding before?”

Gracia shook her head, but Col. Hawkeye answered, “I went to one, about a year after being stationed here. I didn’t take much part in it, though.”

“Do you know the Ishvallan dances?” Kammani asked.

Col. Hawkeye’s eyebrows both raised. “I’ve watched a few, but no, not really.”

Kammani nodded at me, a sly smile on her face. Did she want me to teach them? Well, if Agniya wanted a traditional Ishvallan ceremony, then the _safraya_ would definitely need to be involved in the dancing. “If you’d like, I can show you the simpler steps. Maybe not now, if you’re tired, but before the dance on Friday.”

Elicia gasped and nodded, making the other two smile. “That sounds wonderful,” Gracia said. “But will you have time tomorrow to teach us?”

She was right, I would be busy tomorrow, especially after the first ceremony. “If we do it in the morning, before we start getting ready, it should be fine.” At least I’d have something to do instead of watching Agniya do everything almost by herself.

She and Mei came back into the main room, finished with the dishes, and we all talked for a while. After an hour, Agniya stood up from her mat. “I think it’s time for us all to go to bed. We all have a big day tomorrow.” While Agniya made sure the _safraya_ were settled, Kammani helped me get the cot out from the first-floor closet. I’d be using it until the third day of the ceremony, sleeping in the main room of the house. Once it was set up, she went upstairs to Agniya’s room, where she was staying.

I laid on the cot under the quilt, finding it difficult to sleep. Everything started tomorrow. I went over the schedule in my head - helping the _safraya_ learn the dances, getting dressed and veiled, the procession to the temple, the presentation, the feast, the counseling, and then the overnight vigil. I couldn’t afford to be tired tomorrow. So why couldn’t I slow the beating of my heart?

* * *

**Kaliq**

Cemal’s house was overcrowded, even before Mustang arrived. Agniya helped by bringing food over after Cemal expressed anxiety over feeding all of them, but nothing could be done about the sleeping arrangements or bathroom schedule. Alphonse helped Cemal with the preparations. He has a surprisingly good eye for decorating, so he was made responsible for preparing the Kanda Gathering House, which was almost finished. We had rebuilt the largest hall in the building first, to have a space for indoor events, but the smaller rooms still needed various work done.

Darius and Heinkel, dragging Yoki along with them, did whatever was asked of them, even if it was just to keep out of the way. Yasef was enthralled with the two chimera, although no one knew they weren’t exactly human, and followed them everywhere. Vedran had surprised everyone by begging Cemal to let him practice his new flute with the musicians so he could play at the wedding. The musicians, only one of whom was a musician by trade, welcomed him and he seemed to really open up. I’d have to tell Dr. Marcoh how much his gift was appreciated.

My master had done this so many times before, he often knew what was needed before Cemal ever said anything. He was the one who arranged the sleeping spaces so that Cemal could focus on the ceremony itself. I slept in the main room, with Vedran and Yasef who moved into Cemal’s room when the whole ordeal began. Elyakim slept in Cemal’s bed, Cemal on a cot on the floor, because his age and status required something softer than the floor. Mustang would also be staying in Cemal’s room, once he arrived, and the other _safraya_ slept in the spare bedroom.

I was thankful that Cemal had agreed to be my _malkhizad_ after our dispute. He was my first choice by a long-shot, and my second choice was Vedran, who was a little young and didn’t have a house of his own to house everyone. Thinking about how much trouble there was now, I couldn’t imagine fitting everyone into Agniya’s house. When I told Cemal this the morning after Vedran, Yasef, and my master moved in, he laughed appreciatively.

Mustang arrived in Ishval with three soldiers in tow, and Cemal threw his hands up. “We really don’t have room, unless they want to sleep on top of each other in the kitchen.” Since they weren’t here for the wedding exactly, it was agreed that they could stay in the barracks without breaking hospitality.

With everyone there, all that was left was the ceremonies themselves. Whenever I had a moment to think, I couldn’t help but wonder that this was all really happening. I never could have imagined anything like this until recently, and I wasn’t sure it had really set in. No matter how many times Mida or Cemal or Elyakim- _malim_ assured me, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I don’t deserve this. I fell into these thoughts as we all had dinner the night before the first ceremony, and Cemal smacked the back of my head, jarring me awake.

“Knock it off, brother.” He grinned. My master smiled knowingly, but the safraya seemed confused.

“What’s going on?” Yoki asked. “I don’t like being left out of jokes.”

My master turned to him. “It’s not a joke. Kaliq is doubting himself, which is to be expected, so close to the wedding.”

Mustang smirked as the others nodded in understanding. “You should have seen my friend Hughes the night before his wedding. He was convinced he had somehow tricked Gracia into marrying him and that she would wake up after a few months and leave him for a better man. He was wrong, of course.”

Alphonse laughed. “Yeah, and brother was the same. Well, he was more concerned that Winry would get tired of him and beat him with a wrench, but it’s the same idea.” The others swapped stories of people getting nervous before their weddings, laughing and keeping the darkness from my mind.

* * *

**Mida**

“Like this?” Elicia raised her hands and shuffled to her left, dipping gracefully as she twirled her hands in the air. We had been dancing for a few minutes, Agniya and Kammani working while the rest of us practiced.

“That’s very close. Try to use your wrists to move your hand, rather than your fingers.” Footsteps behind me made me turn to see Col. Hawkeye watching from the doorway. “You’re welcome to join us if you’d like,” I called to her.

She smiled. “I’m not sure if you want me dancing at your wedding. It might ruin the fun.” For someone renowned for her stoicism, her anxiety was not very well hidden.

I smiled and turned back to the three already dancing. Mei got the hang of it pretty quick, explaining that the dances in Xing were similar. Gracia was struggling. She seemed nervous about the larger motions and the more intense footwork. From what I could tell in the way she handled the simpler things, she’d be fine if she just relaxed. Elicia’s movements were a little too loose, but she was young, so that was to be expected.

We moved on to a new step and I was showing them a spin that involved crossing and uncrossing their outstretched arms when I caught the colonel attempting smaller versions of the arm movements. I smiled and said nothing, but gave advice that I thought would help her out. I might not have been able to call her by her first name, but there was no reason for me not to help her.

Agniya came in and watched for a few minutes, offering a tip here and there, before stopping us. “It’s time for everyone to get ready to go. The musicians should be here not too much longer.”

I was already wearing my _arkhaluk_ but I needed to fix my hair and put on the _zhilet_. The others needed to get ready first, which wouldn’t take as long. Agniya wore her white _arkhaluk_ with a red _zhilet_ , as my _malkhizad_. Kammani also wore a white _arkhaluk_ , but as my counselor, she had a _diraq_ instead of a _zhilet_. The _safraya_ didn’t have traditional Ishvallan clothing, but they wore formal clothing from their cultures - Mei in a beautiful pink robe with bright embroidery, and the Amestrian women in formal gowns. Once they were finished dressing, they all crowded around me as Agniya carefully brushed and braided my hair in three braids down the back, colored beads woven in. She fastened the _daaha_ to my head and let the veil drop down to cover my face. I wore no face-paint or jewelry around my face, thank goodness. My face was supposed to be clean under the veil, a statement of inner purity. Agniya helped me stand as Kammani approached with the _zhilet_ and held it up so I could put my arms through the sleeves. Elicia expressed her opinion with a ‘wow’ under her breath and I smiled at her simple wonder. Kammani pulled the braids out from underneath it all and made a few adjustments to the way the _zhilet_ hung around me, and Agniya fastened it in the front. I waited until they stepped away to look down at myself. The gold of the _zhilet_ flashed at me as I moved, more vibrant than the slight shimmer of the _arkhaluk_ underneath. The thicker fabric outlined my figure in a way I hadn’t seen other clothing do before, and I smiled. I couldn’t wait for Kaliq to see me.

“You look beautiful, my sister.” Agniya said quietly. I looked at her, my heart full of light brighter than the gold of my dress. Her eyes were soft, sparkling with love and approval. They began to water and she looked away, laughing.

Kammani nodded next to her. “You are the most beautiful bride.” The three older _safraya_ nodded and smiled with her.

“Everything is so shiny!” Elicia shouted, taking my hand. “When you dance, no one’s gonna be able to look away!” She smiled the widest grin I’ve ever seen on a girl her age as someone knocked on the door. Agniya rushed to the door, wiping her eyes.

Nima Attar stood on the road with several other musicians, holding a _zhurna_. “Good morning, ladies.” He flashed a smile past Agniya to the rest of us. “Are you ready to start the procession?”

Agniya turned back inside. She grinned, her tears dried up. “Mida, are you ready?”

My heart raced so fast it rose into my throat as I tried to remember to breathe. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, trying not to remember that just over a month ago, I was still using a wheelchair. Kammani laid her hand on my arm. “ _Kadizha,_ ” I looked at her, still forcing myself to breathe. “ _Yakhal Ishvalla anlashev duq. Vaher_.” _Daughter, the love of Ishvalla is with you. Go on._

Her hushed tone calmed me and I smiled at her. My heart was still racing, but breathing was no longer a struggle. I straightened my shoulders and looked back to Agniya. “I’m ready.”

Nima nodded, lifting his _zhurna_ to his lips, and started playing a fast tune. Agniya waved for us to come out onto the street and I followed close behind Nima as we strode through the streets to the beat of the _donbaq_. People came out of their homes to watch us and many joined in once we passed. Elicia was skipping around us, really into it, as the spectators clapped their hands in time. I glanced behind me after we’d walked a block or two, trying to gauge how many people had joined in the crowd. Kammani had lifted her hands up and was sashaying to the beat as Agniya cheered her on. Gracia was laughing, her and Col. Hawkeye clapping their hands to the beat. The streets were filled with people behind us, waving at us and dancing around. I even glimpsed Erol for a second, his hands in the air and head thrown back with laughter.

I heard something ahead of us, like another band playing, and snapped back around, energized by all the activity around me. Nima and the others adjusted their tune ever so slightly to match the other band, now clearly audible through the town. Between two buildings, I could see flashes of clothing from the other procession. We were now on parallel streets, and a smile overtook my face. I could almost sense Kaliq over there, just out of sight behind the buildings. Overcome, I tried not to twirl around, being the only one in the procession not expected to dance, contenting myself with twirling my hands around to the side and lightening my steps. Agniya whooped behind me, and I could hear Cemal answer with a loud cheer.

Finally, the road opened up to the square in front of the Gathering House and the procession slowed as the two crowds finally mingled together. I spotted Cemal, dancing wildly near the front of the procession, his footwork putting even Agniya to shame. Alphonse was laughing, trying to mimic what an Ishvallan man about his age was showing him. The two larger circus performers, Darius and Heinkel, were dancing in a fashion I’d never seen before, but seemed to be enjoying themselves. I heard Gracia gasp and laugh deeply behind me, so I turned to see her grabbing Col. Hawkeye’s arm and pointing at something in the other crowd. Following her finger, I saw Fuhrer Mustang, near Cemal, hands in the air, bobbing up and down with a goofy grin on his face. He looked awkward, but he was having so much fun that it didn’t matter.

Then, I saw him. Kaliq was partially blocked by Cemal’s display, but there was no mistaking him. His hair was brushed back, tied into a ponytail as usual, and he had a golden _kofiyad_ on his head. His shoulders were set and back, covered with a gold _maawis_ and his red scarf, and I wished I could get a better look at him. Elicia darted out away from us and over to the other crowd, ignoring her mother’s calls. Mustang smiled down at her as she danced next to him, taking her hand and spinning her around.

Everywhere, all around us, people were dancing and cheering and laughing. The musicians stepped forward, leaving the crowd behind as they approached the entrance. Elyakim- _malim_ walked out in front of the Gathering House. The musicians altered their tune and the dancing slowed to a stop, although the clapping continued.  Agniya took my hand and led me up to stand in front of the high priest. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Cemal and Kaliq doing the same. The music continued as we got into position, and then Elyakim- _malim_ raised his hands, signalling the musicians to stop.

When the square was relatively quiet, he said, “My children, what brings you here?”

Agniya nodded to Cemal, who answered, “Two of Ishvalla’s children have expressed the wish to be married. We bring them forward now to make their wishes known.” Cemal’s eyes were still bright from all the movement, but his stature was solid. I stole another glance at Kaliq, smiling at the strong-features on his face. His _maawis_ was reflecting gold on his neck and jaw, highlighting his cheekbones. His fists were clenched, and I smiled, knowing he was probably going crazy with nerves. I saw his eyes flash toward me and I shifted my head slightly, so he would know I saw him looking at me.

“Blessed are those who find happiness in one another,” Elyakim- _malim_ said. “What are the names of those who wish to be married?” He nodded to Cemal. Because he spoke first, Kaliq would be presented first.

Cemal stepped back next to Kaliq and bowed his head. “I, Cemal, of the brethren of Ishvalla, present Kaliq, formerly of the Nabar family. He offers his home, his future, his body, and his heart to his proposed partner.” Kaliq bowed after he had been introduced, his movements stiff. I tried to keep my smile from spreading.

Elyakim- _malim_ nodded to them and turned his head to look at Agniya. She stepped back and bowed her head, throwing me a small smile. Looking back up, she said, “I, Agniya of the Barid family, present Mida, of the Barid family. She offers her home, her future, her body, and her heart to her proposed partner.” I bowed, watching the light catch the shimmer of my clothes.

The priest beckoned for Kaliq and I to step forward. We approached him, walking in pace with each other. We drifted closer and it became harder to resist the urge to turn my head and get a better look. We stopped in front of his master, who smiled at us and placed his hands on our shoulders.

“Kaliq, your _malkhizad_ has said that you wish to be married to Mida of the Barid family. Do you affirm this?”

Kaliq clenched his jaw before he spoke, and his voice was rough. “I declare before Ishvalla and my brethren that I wish to be married to Mida of the Barid family.” He never stumbled over the words, but it would not have surprised me if he did. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and whisper softly until he calmed down, but I couldn’t do that until after the ceremony on the third day.

Elyakim- _malim_ nodded and turned to me. “Mida, your _malkhizad_ has said that you wish to be married to Kaliq, formerly of the Nabar family. Do you affirm this?” Now that it was my turn to speak, I could understand Kaliq’s nervousness. The priest’s hand felt heavy on my shoulder.

But I couldn’t act like that. Kaliq was nervous enough for the both of us, and I needed to help him. “I declare before Ishvalla and my brethren that I wish to be married to Kaliq, formerly of the Nabar family...” I glanced quickly to the side, feeling both of their eyes catch my gesture. I whispered loud enough for Kaliq to hear, “... and soon to be of _my_ family.” Kaliq twitched in surprise and I could see his cheeks redden.

Elyakim- _malim_ smiled widely and called out, “We have heard their declarations. Now, they shall enter a period of reflection and prayer. Before they depart, let us send them off with a feeling of fullness. Come,” he addressed us, “Enter and share a meal.”

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The first day of the ceremony was a lot of fun. I never felt quite as comfortable as Gracia or the fuhrer, but even just being a part of the atmosphere was enjoyable. The meal was huge, although Mida and Kaliq only got to eat small portions, as part of their preparation. They would fast from the time they left the Gathering House to a feast tomorrow night, where there would be more dancing. The rest of the people who had gathered remained after the bridal party left, eating and dancing. The musicians picked up their instruments again after they finished their meals, encouraging the attendees to move around some more.

The procession earlier had seemed impromptu, the way people sort of just joined in on the streets, but I got the idea that it was actually well planned in advance. People had cleared their schedules and put off other responsibilities to enjoy the feast today.

An Ishvallan woman around Gracia’s age, Jana, explained that the first day of a wedding celebration was a romantic day for the whole community. Those who felt romantically inclined to someone else often revealed their feelings in the few hours during the feast, and those who were already in relationships paid special attention to each other. True enough, Alphonse’s new friend, Siavar, was pulling Alphonse over to where we were sitting. Jana laughed as Alphonse sheepishly asked Mei to dance with him. Siavar stood near us as we watched them start to dance, and when he realized they had no idea what they were doing, he invited Elicia to go out there with him and help them. The three of us - Jana, Gracia, and myself - watched them for a few minutes, smiling as they learned to relax. It did look like fun, and I considered the idea of going out and joining in for a brief second before squashing it. That’s when the fuhrer joined us, leaving the chimeras and Yoki at the other table.

“Care to dance, Gracia?” He had his charming smile on.

Gracia looked at me, a sly smirk on her face. I returned her smirk with one of my own, knowing Gracia could put his dancing to shame. She shook her head gently to show off the waves in her hair and turned back to Mustang. “I think I’d like to keep an eye on Elicia for now, but Riza is available.”

My smile dropped and eyes widened. That is not what I thought her smile had meant. Mustang seemed just as shocked as me, but recovered much more smoothly. He shifted so that his hand reached toward me and put the charming smile back on. I wasn’t fooled, though. I could see the veiled discomfort in his eyes, which hid the same wish that I had - that we could dance together like this without prompting from someone else, without fear or guilt.

I shot Gracia a warning look, to which she responded with a mischievous smile, and accepted his hand. I brushed off my dress as I stood, grateful that I had packed the simpler, pale green one that didn’t wrinkle as easily. We made our way near where the other foreign guests were dancing, and we had just taken positions to join in when the music shifted. The komuz player plucked out softer, slower chords as a singer stepped forward. Siavar took Elicia’s hand and joined a line of couples. Alphonse and Mei followed them and we stared at each other for a moment before Mustang tilted his head slightly to say, ‘ _Why not?_ ’

Siavar turned his head to speak back to us. “This one is called _Mi dolkho shli rihadan_ , which means ‘We walked side by side for a long time.’ It’s my favorite love song.” He turned back and raised his free hand, carefully placing his left toe behind his right foot. I could see the women mirroring his pose, so I followed suit, trying not to think too hard about the meaning of the song itself. I just hoped it wouldn’t last long.

We skipped gently forward before the women spun around their partners, still clasping their hands. Mei and Alphonse were all sweet smiles, but it was all I could do to even look at Mustang’s face. Maybe accepting his offer to dance wasn’t a good idea. The song continued, alternating gliding forward with bent knees and spinning around each other, never letting go of the other’s hand. The free tempo of the music lent an intimate quality to the dance, and I saw other couples kissing each other’s hands in the spins. I closed my eyes briefly to get a grip. I am Riza Hawkeye, expert soldier. I was not about to let my emotions cloud my thoughts.

After that private pep talk, the dance was easier, my heart locked back behind its wall again. Even the tenderness I found in the fuhrer’s eyes didn’t shake me anymore. The song soon ended and the men bowed to their partners. “Thank you for the dance, colonel,” Mustang said, his anxiety gone as well.

I smiled as our hands dropped. “No, thank you, sir.” We made our way back to the table, where Gracia was waiting with a warm and knowing smile. After an hour or so, Mei and Alphonse came back, their faces flushed and eyes bright. They plopped down on the mats, looking exhausted. The party was winding down, couples retiring to the tables to talk. Siavar brought Elicia back over and left us to go talk with a group of Ishvallans his age. Elicia let out a loud sigh and rested her chin on the table.

Jana laughed. “Looks like this little _kadi_ is tired.”

Mei smiled at the younger girl. “I think we all are.” The rest of us nodded in agreement. Those of us staying with Agniya excused ourselves to go rest. We were quiet on the walk back, even Elicia.

Agniya had told us to come through the back when we returned, since Mida and Kammani were in the main room. The rest of the day would require us to be quiet and somewhat stationary, so as not to distract the bride. As we entered, I could hear Kammani’s lower, weighted tones and Mida answering her. We all silently climbed the stairs and congregated in mine and Mei’s room, the designated guest room, which had more furniture to sit on. Agniya brought up a few last minute things for us to work on before tomorrow.

Kammani came up to tell us when her time with Mida was finished and Agniya warmed up the stew for us to eat. Mida could only drink water until tomorrow morning, when she could have _lavash_ , which is a type of flatbread that was pretty bland until you put some sort of topping on it. Mida sat with us, although she didn’t talk much while we ate. When we finished, Agniya brought out a special bowl to wash Mida’s hands and feet. Kammani set up a small shrine on the table after Mei and I cleared it. Gracia was glued to Elicia’s side, who refused to budge from the room while Mida and Agniya were doing anything related to the wedding. When everything was ready for the vigil, Kammani called us all in to sit around Mida and lit the candles around the room. She and Agniya sang a beautiful song, which Agniya had earlier explained was an ancient prayer for the couple’s happiness, and that there were two versions - one for the bride and one for the groom. I couldn’t catch all the lyrics and I didn’t know ancient Ishvallan, but the words sounded like this:

 

_Oya nu lyuli lyuli_

_Nali dire lyuli_

_Osevena lyuli_

_Kare vone dumahte_

_Sho ehsa sekhu daruvahte_

_Daruvahre pozhuno khi_

_Shvo nivuri ne sashino ushkhi_

_Daruvahre shere reshkhi_

_Sho khodev sa sanam uzheshkhi_

_Ah, ah, ah_

  
After their song was done, we left in silence, going upstairs to our rooms for the night. No one said anything to each other when we got to the second floor, either out of respect or the reverent attitude of the ritual.

* * *

**Mida**

The time between the prayer singing and dawn didn’t seem as long when I was experiencing it as it had seemed when I was preparing for it. I had plenty to think about - my personal growth from childhood into womanhood, what I wanted for myself, what Ishvalla wanted for me, my role in the community, my future role in the community, my role in my relationship with Kaliq, and what he meant to me. My thoughts threatened to be consumed by worry over his future, but that was not what the vigil was for. The vigil was about oneself, introspection and cleansing the self before joining with someone else. It was about understanding yourself so that you could better understand others.

Whether the time seemed short because I was lost in thought or because I accidentally dozed off, I can’t say, but sunlight soon outshone the candles around me. Agniya and Kammani came downstairs, both washed and dressed. They waited outside of the main room until I stood, except that I almost fell and Agniya rushed forward to catch me.

“Thanks,” I murmured. My legs were fine most of the time, but maybe sitting in the same position for more than eight hours without eating made them weaker. Kammani pulled a bench over for me to sit.

“I’ll get you some _lavash_.” Agniya left for the kitchen when she was sure I wasn’t going to collapse again. Kammani already had a cup of water in her hand, which I accepted. The cool liquid refreshed me a bit, although my head still felt fuzzy from lack of sleep and food. Agniya came back with two pieces of bread that I tore into smaller pieces and ate.

After I didn’t feel so light-headed, they brought out a bathtub and filled it with hot water. I stripped down and stepped into the water, wincing a bit at the heat, but I got used to it fairly quickly as Agniya poured another bucket of water over my head. I continued standing as they took rags and washed me from head to toe. I started shivering after a few minutes of standing bare with my skin still wet. They sang a sweet song while they worked, about a girl leaving home and saying goodbye to her mother.

Once I was clean, they wrapped a plain _diraq_ around me, just enough to cover my torso while they painted the _kilan_ on my arms and legs. The sticks tickled my skin but I tried not to move around too much. The _safraya_ started coming in just after Agniya and Kammani started with the paste. Mei was first and she got pieces of _lavash_ for the others so that Agniya could focus on me. I smiled to each of them as they came downstairs. Elicia perched behind Kammani, squirming to get a better look at the designs they were painting. I explained to her what each of the designs meant and why they were chosen.

Finally, after my arms had gotten sore from holding them out for so long, Kammani and Agniya stepped back. “Now we just have to wait a few hours for it to dry.” Agniya said, smiling at her handiwork.

“Can I at least put my arms down?” I asked, laughing. Agniya nodded and I gently lowered them until my palms rested on the bench. I let out a sigh of relief and the other women laughed. Agniya wandered off into the kitchen to get back to cooking for the feast tonight and the following two days. Kammani and the _safraya_ took turns helping her and sitting with me. Of course, Elicia never left my side.

The _kilan_ began to itch and it became harder not to peel it off. When I said as much to Kammani, the older woman inspected my arm. “It’s almost dry. Be careful not to move around too much or it’ll start to flake off.” I knew my arms and legs would look wonderful when it came off, but I was so ready to be able to move again. Not to mention it was getting close to midday, and we’d have to continue with the rituals.

Gracia, who had been helping Agniya for the past few minutes, brought out a basket of _lavash_ and a few small bowls with various spreads. She followed a few minutes later with cups of water. “Sorry about the small meal, but there isn’t room on the stove for the stew and the spiced _matahn_ doesn’t require heat to make.” Everyone waved off her excuses as the bread was passed around. I looked at the _matahn_ with longing. Agniya did a wonderful job with it; she knew how to produce the exact right consistency for spreading and dipping. From the looks on everyone’s faces as they ate, I could tell she had done it again. But it was only a few more hours before I could eat something with more flavor than the _lavash_ , and it would all be worth it after tomorrow.

After eating, Kammani looked over the _kilan_ again, this time nodding. “I think it can come off now. All right, where did Elicia go?” The girl popped up behind her, a huge smile on her face. I don’t think she had dropped that smile since she arrived. “Now I need your help getting all of the paste off of Mida’s arms, _shakar_. Be gentle with it though, just peel it off like this,” Kammani demonstrated with a dot just on my upper arm. It came off easily into her hand. “And make sure you put all of the dried _kilan_ into the bowl, okay?” Elicia nodded and moved to my other side, working diligently to rid my arms of the paste. It took the two of them fifteen minutes to get all of it off of my arms alone. Kammani had to help Elicia with a trickier large chunk that was still a little wet. It didn’t look any lighter than the rest of it, though.

Elicia backed off after she finished, wrinkling her nose at her hands which had gotten a little stained. Kammani laughed and showed the girl her own hands, just as marked up. Elicia chose not to help with my legs, not wanting to get more of the paste on her hands. Mei was helping Agniya cook, so Col. Hawkeye offered to help.

So far, the soldier hadn’t taken an active part in the preparations, just offering an odd hand here and there, holding something when someone asked, things like that. Her helping with the _kilan_ tattoos felt strange. She had killed my family. But then I remembered what she said, about taking care of them properly. Even if she didn’t know about Ishvallan traditions, she was no stranger to proper rituals. Even though she had come mostly to stay with the fuhrer, I was glad that she was here. _Konav Mohejen_ was still fresh in our minds after all, so it felt right that she should help me prepare for my future.

With all of the _kilan_ gone, we rushed to get me dressed. Any minute now, Elyakim-malim would be here to speak with me, and Kammani would be off to speak to Kaliq. I slipped a plain white _arkhaluk_ over my head and wore a gold _diraq_ over it, just enough shimmer to acknowledge my role in the whole ceremony, but plain enough that it wouldn’t distract from the day’s activities.

Gracia was helping to fasten the _diraq_ when we heard music playing from the street, from the band following Elyakim- _malim_. Agniya practically threw everyone out of the house except for Kammani and me when she heard the song.

Elyakim- _malim_ and Kammani spoke in the main room for a few minutes, to compare notes and learn about possible problem areas that needed to be addressed. Finally, Kammani came up to Agniya’s room to get us before leaving with the musicians to go to Cemal’s house. Agniya would be included in this conversation, sitting behind me. The high priest asked several questions about my relationship with Kaliq, some very personal. It was an accepted rule that no one talks about the questions the counselors ask during this ritual, somewhat to preserve the integrity of the responses, but mostly because the questions changed from person to person.

We continued for several hours; the sun began to set and he was still asking questions. Finally he said, “I have one last question for you, one that will determine the outcome of this process.” The atmosphere in the room shifted and I was suddenly very nervous about this. Was it something Kaliq had said when they spoke yesterday that could jeopardize everything?

“How much do you know about Kaliq’s personal history?”

I froze. What kind of answer was he expecting? I didn’t know much about it and my mind raced, trying to understand. Agniya’s voice broke through my panic. “Elyakim- _malim_ , forgive me for interrupting, but I don’t-” He held up his hand to silence her.

“Mida is the only one who can answer now. Any concerns you have can be addressed after she gives me an answer.”

But I was struggling to find that answer. My heart sunk. I never asked him about it, and he never spoke in detail, and now we could lose our chance because of our tight lips. There was no way around it; I’d have to speak as plainly as possible.

“I don’t know the details of his history, only that he has killed people in the past and felt he needed to discard his name and family ties. I know that until recently, he felt weighed down by what he’d done to the extent that he couldn’t think about the future. But I know that he has since begun to forgive himself and move forward. I know that he thinks of me as a part of that. His past helped shape who he is now, and it is something I would like to know more about, but only when he is ready to tell me. He may never be ready to tell me, and I can accept that. No, I can’t not accept that. I wasn’t present for most of his past, but I am a part of his future, in whatever form that takes. Regardless of how this ends, I will be part of his family, if only figuratively, and that means accepting someone for how they are, no matter what they have done or will do. I don’t really know anything about his past, but I am looking forward to our future.”

For a moment, no one moved. That was the most assertive answer I had given all day, and I was beginning to regret my words when Elyakim- _malim_ smiled. “ _Ah, im kadizha, Ishvalla tam duqan dholev._ ” _Oh, my daughter, Ishvalla smiles upon you._ I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding as he addressed Agniya, “I believe that the bride is ready to marry her chosen partner. Tonight, we will hold a feast to make this arrangement known to the community and tomorrow, please bring her to the Temple of Kanda at the appropriate time.”

I heard Agniya bow behind me as she said, “Your insight and guidance will bring us all happiness in the times to come. I will take your words and approval and help my sister complete her journey to her new family.”

Elyakim- _malim_ nodded and left. The curtain had scarcely settled before Agniya let out a squeal and tackled me from behind. All of my anxiety released itself in laughter as we fell to the ground. My vision blurred as tears streamed out of my eyes. I did it. We did it. We were getting married.

* * *

**Kaliq**

“Hurry up! The musicians are here!” Yoki called from the main room. Cemal had his hands on my shoulders, staring me down after I’d frozen in front of the door. My heart pounded and my hands shook.

Cemal smiled at me, not as brazen as usual, like the smile my brother used to give me. “She’s coming toward you, brother. She is beautiful and kind and understanding, and she’s looking forward to seeing you. You saw her dancing last night; you saw the way she looked at you. Ishvalla has blessed the two of you with happiness and all you have to do is show up. Okay?” Cemal dipped his head slightly to catch my eyes.

Mustang stuck his head around the corner of the hall, concerned. When he saw me, recognition flashed in his eyes and he walked over to us. “Kaliq, I want to remind you of something you said to me last year, just before Fuhrer Grumman fell ill. ‘Look your decision in the eye and accept it.’ From what I understand, you were the one who asked Mida to marry you. You had already decided that you wanted to marry her before that. Then she accepted you. Now it’s time for you to look her in the eye and make good on your promises. You want to walk toward the future with her, right? This is the first step, right out the front door.” He stepped back and gestured to the main room.

I glanced back at Cemal, who raised his eyebrows and let his usual grin come back. They were right. There was no reason to be nervous, not when she was walking beside me to the same destination. “Thank you.” Both of them huffed at me in response as I walked past them out the front door. Yasef and Alphonse were already waiting outside with Vedran, who was eagerly holding up his flute. The _komuz_ player pulled his instrument into his arms and struck up the tune. My heart was still pounding, but now it was more from anticipation than fear. We marched through the streets, Cemal staying close to my side rather than dancing like he had done on the last two processions. The _safraya_ enjoyed themselves, though, Mustang even taking the hands of a few young women who watched us pass by and dancing with them. Cemal began singing after the second repeat of the song and several others quickly joined in. Vedran’s playing had significantly improved in the past month and while he wasn’t quite able to keep up, he was playing recognizable notes. The music sped up on its own, fed by the energy in the air. As we neared the square in front of the Gathering House, we could hear the other procession and then we were side-by-side. The musicians mingled together, as did the crowds behind us. I turned my head to see Mida, who had turned her head to look at me.

She was radiant in her golden _arkhaluk_ and _zhilet_. The _daaha_ veil covered her face but I could see her smile. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and joy as she glided on, surrounded by her _safraya_ who were all dancing. Agniya and Cemal bridged the gap between us, dancing together. I saw Mida lift her head up and her mouth opened to sing along with the music. I couldn’t help but smile at her and join in.

The temple loomed in front of us with my master standing at the entrance. The music slowly stopped as he raised his hands again. Then he opened his mouth and began the chant of welcoming. Cemal joined in, as did the other monks, either scattered in the crowd or coming out of the temple to stand with Elyakim- _malim_. When the chant ended, he lowered his arms so that his palms were still facing upward and called for everyone to enter. The wedding party moved out of the way as the crowd, including the _safraya_ , entered, finding their way to their seats before we would process in. I saw Dr. Marcoh pass by and he gave me a small nod and a smile. I wasn’t sure if he was going to come. It meant a lot to me that he did.

When we were the last ones outside, we lined up to process in. The musicians led us, singing rather than playing their instruments. The familiar song sent shivers down my spine. I had never thought to hear it sung for me, first because I was a monk, and then because I had given up on ever being welcome among my people again. They marched down the aisle with measured steps, Kammani behind them as Mida’s substitute family. Cemal and Agniya followed her, side-by-side. I could see Yasef get up on his knees and point at her before Heinkel got him to sit still. This was not the time for dancing, even though my body was flooded with light.

The _malkizhadi_ reached the front and stopped before Elyakim-malim. The musicians stopped playing when they reached their positions against the side walls near the front of the sanctuary. In unison, Cemal and Agniya said, “We bring those who wish to be married after they have been counseled. Their integrity has been proven and we confirm that they are ready.”

Elyakim- _malim_ nodded. “Let them come forward to be presented.” My heart started beating faster again as the musicians started singing, the women’s voices soaring while the men played the instruments. I went first, walking slowly through the temple. Everyone was smiling at me which didn’t help my nerves. Cemal cleared his throat loudly, bringing my attention back to the front of the temple. It was easier to keep going if I just looked at the three of them standing there. I stopped in front of them and bowed and the music stopped with a little flourish from the _komuz_.

Cemal stepped beside me as he said, “I present Kaliq, formerly of the Nabar family, who has cleansed himself and sought counsel from his community and Ishvalla.” Cemal stepped to the side, away from us as my master reached for my hand.

I took it and he raised his head to look at Mida. I turned to watch her as the musicians started again, with a softer lilting melody that picked up the flourish from the end of my procession. Her eyes were bright through the veil as she looked at me, never wavering as mine had. I could see that her hands were shaking when she reached us and she didn’t seem to know who exactly too look at once she reached the front. The music ended on a few rippling chords and faded into silence.

Agniya moved to stand beside her. “I present Mida, of the Barid family, who has cleansed herself and sought counsel from her community and Ishvalla.” Agniya stepped back in the opposite direction from Cemal and Mida took a step forward to take Elyakim- _malim_ ’s hand.

He began, “Blessed are those who find love within each other. Blessed are those who take on a covenant with each other and with Ishvalla. This covenant is not to be taken lightly, and only those who are prepared for the journey that follows may take these vows. Their _malkizhadi_  have attested to their readiness and they stand here before God to create new lives for themselves and each other. Now it is time for them to face each other and their future together.” He brought our hands together, moving his up to our shoulders. My head felt light at her touch and goosebumps spread up my arm. The musicians said another chant and the women in the crowd gave the proper responses. When the song began, I reached up with my free hand to unhook the veil from her _daaha_. She leaned her head against my head just for a second, the veil coming away to reveal her wide smile. My heart threatened to block my breathing as I looked at her. Her face was only lightly painted, but she glowed. I paused, my mouth slightly open as I just stared at her until she laughed silently and Agniya stepped up next to us, her eyebrow raised. I blushed and handed her the veil.

Elyakim- _malim_ led us to the prayer rug laid before the altar and had us kneel facing each other, holding both hands. “Before Ishvalla and before his children, make your covenant to each other.”

I tried to steady my heart before opening my mouth but it was no use. She was overwhelming. “I, Kaliq, take you, Mida, to be my partner, loving what I know of you and trusting what I do not yet know. I eagerly anticipate the chance to grow together, to meet the woman you will become, and continue to fall in love with you every day. I promise to love and cherish you through whatever life may bring us.” I rushed a little, but if Mida noticed, she didn’t react. Her hands stilled as I spoke.

“I, Mida, take you, Kaliq, to be my partner, loving what I know of you and trusting what I do not yet know. I eagerly anticipate the chance to grow together, to meet the man you will become, and continue to fall in love with you every day. I promise to love and cherish you through whatever life may bring us.” She spoke the words with her lips still curved in a smile, but she said every word smoothly and full of warmth. We bowed our heads and sang our prayers for Ishvalla’s blessing together.

When we finished, Elyakim- _malim_ touched our shoulders and we stood, still facing each other. “They have made their vows to each other and to Ishvalla. Now, their hands are bound together.” He took my scarf and wrapped our joined hands together. Hidden by the fabric, Mida ran her thumbs over my skin and warmth spread over me from her touch. “Joined thusly, so they are bound in their hearts. Go forth and celebrate your new family.”

The musicians struck up a livelier tune as Mida and I walked out of the temple together, still wrapped in my scarf. Agniya and Cemal followed us and those who watched stood up from their mats to join the procession from the temple to the gathering house. Once we were out of the temple, the musicians really picked up the tune, with one flute player soaring over the _komuz_ and _donbaq_. Mida threw her head back and laughed, skipping to the beat. Her movements caused me to move as well, and rather than throw her off balance I joined her and we led a dancing throng through the streets.

* * *

**Hawkeye**

The feast felt so different from the one the night before. This time, the men and women sat or danced together and the sounds were so much louder. The music was livelier and people didn’t seem to want to stop dancing once they reached the gathering house. Gracia and I helped Agniya set up the food, which were several lighter dishes, more like appetizers or hors d’oeuvres. Elicia had stayed with the fuhrer, and one of Agniya’s nephews had asked her to dance, on Cemal’s suggestion. When we finished setting everything up, we joined the other _safraya_ , those who weren’t dancing, anyway. After several minutes, Elyakim came in and raised his hands. The musicians ended their song and the dancers migrated to the sides of the room to wait for him to say something.

“It is time for Kaliq and Mida to dance their _myanalov sayaar_. Come to the middle, you two.” Their hands were still tied together, and I wondered how easy it could be to dance like that. Elyakim nodded to the musicians and moved to where Cemal was standing.

The men opened their mouths and sang a beautiful, rich melody while one of the women had picked up a _zhurna_ and was just barely audible under their voices.

 

_Kala kalla kula sheli_

_Kala kula sheli_

_Kala kalla kula sheli_

_Kala kula sheli_

 

Kaliq and Mida glided around the room, taking turns leading the other. On the last line, they came toward the middle, pausing to look at each other on the last note. As the men held the last chord, the woman playing the _zhurna_ brought it away from her mouth as another adjusted a _donbaq_ and Nima picked up a _komuz_. They struck up a livelier dancing tune and Mida spun around Kaliq, slowly unraveling their hands as she danced. The scarf swirled, but never released their hands completely. She suddenly stopped in front of him as the chant ended and the men began singing again. They repeated this process twice, and the second chant almost had their hands completely unwrapped, and then the men and women sang together.

 

_Uvekalut tishaq hili_

_Kala kula sheli_

_Kala kalla uvekalut_

_Tishaq tishaq tishaq hili la_

_la la la …._

Kaliq took the scarf from their hands and wrapped it around Mida. Agniya whispered to us and explained that this represented their becoming one family. During the final chant, they took hands and danced around the room side-by-side. Agniya laughed. “They’re supposed to be looking at the people around the room!” Neither one of them was looking away from each other.

Everyone applauded them when the dance ended and the musicians went back to their previous repertoire. Kaliq and Mida sat at a table by themselves and people came up to them to give their congratulations. Gracia called Elicia over and they went together to speak to them. The fuhrer nodded to me and we followed them, narrowly missing being run over by Darius and his dancing partner.

Elicia hugged Mida, who had wrapped an arm around her and was saying something to make her nod emphatically. Kaliq laughed. I’d never seen him laugh before. “Thank you both so much for your help,” Mida said, looking up at Gracia. “I hope you enjoy the feast today.”

“I’m sure we will. And don’t forget to eat something!” They walked back to the table, Gracia nodding at us as she passed. Kaliq’s shoulders straightened when we approached them. I always marvelled at the effect Fuhrer Mustang had on him ever since he had told him about his goals.

“This wasn’t so hard, was it?” the fuhrer said, putting one hand on his hip.

Kaliq smiled. “It was every bit as hard as I thought it would be. But,” he looked at Mida, “it was worth it.”  Mida grinned.

“Congratulations to the both of you,” I said.

“Thank you.” Mida nodded to me. “Your presence here meant more to me than you know, Riza.” I blinked at her. My presence? Me, the one who shot her sister and nephew? Not only that, but she called me by my first name for the first time.

The fuhrer glanced at me and smiled. “You’re going to have to teach me that trick, Mida.” The couple laughed as I came back to my senses and glared at him sarcastically.

I turned back to Mida. “I am glad that I was able to be a part of this. I wish you every happiness.” She smiled at me and we went back to sit with the rest of the _safraya_.

I felt a bit distracted by her words for the rest of the evening, even when Alphonse asked me to dance. The night ended with a procession to Kaliq’s house, where Mida would now be living, and then Mida’s _safraya_ all went back to Agniya’s. All of us collapsed when we got there, Agniya dropping first. Gracia and I tried to pack some before going to bed, since we were leaving the next morning, but we gave up. Elicia had crawled onto the other bed and fallen asleep, which only made us more tired. When I got to the guest room, Mei was still wearing her finer clothing laying on top of the blankets. Her shoes had come off, though, sprawled in disarray as opposed to how she usually kept them. I smiled and slipped off my dress, sighing as the confining fabric gave way.

The train ride the following day was quiet. The guards chose to guard the outside of the car this time, the danger greater heading back to the capitol. Elicia fell asleep within minutes of leaving the station and Gracia soon joined her. I could never sleep on trains, for some reason that I was seriously regretting. The fuhrer stayed awake as well, which surprised me. He didn’t say anything for a long time, just staring out the window as the landscape changed from desert to plains

I was halfway through the second book I had brought with me for the trip when he said, “I really do hope he finds happiness.” His posture hadn’t changed and he never took his eyes from the window.

I smiled at him. “So do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based the wedding ceremonies off of various cultures including Somali, Armenian, and Indian. The language is a combination of Somali, Armenian, Punjabi, Azerbaijani, Arabic, and Hebrew. All of the ceremonies were spoken in Ishvallan, even if they aren't written in Ishvallan above.
> 
> Music: The songs mentioned are actual songs I listened to while I was writing this. The song that Nima Attar played to process to the Gathering House is from a video I found on youtube called "Armenian Folk Music - Traditional Armenian Wedding Processional". The song that Roy and Riza danced to is "Mi dolgo shli ryadom" by Strongilla Artlach. The ancient Ishvallan song that Kammani and Agniya sing is "Ljuli Ljuli Ljuli" performed by the Village People Folk Band. The song they sing when bathing Mida is "My Mother, Now You Will Sleep" by the same group. The song that Kaliq processes to on the third day is "Lovely Yerevan" performed by the Armenian and Caucasian Folk Ensemble. The song that Elyakim and the monks chant is "Kakhuri Mak'ruli" performed by the Rustavi Folk Choir. The song that Cemal, Agniya, and Kammani processed into the temple to is "Uwanaiyui" performed by the Taiwu Elementary School Folk Singers. The song that Kaliq processed into the temple to is "Rakut", the fifth movement of "Five Hebrew Love Songs" by Eric Whitacre. The song that Mida processed into the temple to is "Temuna", the first movement of "Five Hebrew Love Songs". The song for the procession from the temple to the gathering house is "Kanakere & Oriental Dance" by the Armenian and Caucasian Folk Ensemble. The song that Kaliq and Mida dance to at the feast is "Kala Kalla", the second movement of "Five Hebrew Love Songs."
> 
> I will be posting all of these songs to my tumblr, lilykit627.tumblr.com, with the tag "burning ambitions fic". I will also be posting a complete translation of the ceremonies into Ishvallan and a basic outline of the ceremonies themselves.


	32. Glint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a year since I started working on this piece. I have plans in the works to take a break from writing new material to go back and fix some continuity errors in the earlier chapters, but I'll make sure to wrap up ongoing plot lines before that.

**February 1920**

**Kaliq**

I turned Mida’s hand over in mine and traced the lines etched into her skin. She leaned back against my chest and chuckled softly. This past week had been the two of us figuring out the special places on the other’s body. Mida was rarely ticklish, except for her hips and apparently her hands. I guess it could have been the roughness of my hands that brought out this reaction though, considering her laughter didn’t last long.

“Does this feel good?” I asked.

She nodded. “Mhm.” I continued drawing circles around her palm, occasionally lightly dragging along the lengths of her fingers. She shifted her head around, and her hair mussed up at an awkward angle. I kissed the top of her head.

After a few minutes, she withdrew her hand and turned around to face me. Her eyes were worried, her smile still present. “Kaliq, I talked to Agniya today.” I nodded for her to continue. “She wants to start up a school in Kanda. Someone started one in Gunja, and we had a sort of daycare thing before the Wardens destroyed the Gathering House.”

“You want to get involved,” I said, both a statement and a question. She nodded. “That sounds like what you told me you wanted to do. Is there something you’re concerned about?”

She couldn’t meet my eyes. “I’m concerned about you. You seemed passionate about the future when you talked to Col. Miles, but you don’t seem to know what you want.” She lowered her head. “I don’t want to move forward without you.”

I had been putting it off, thinking about my future. All I knew was that I wanted to be with Mida, but I did want to help my people get back on their feet again. That was my goal when I came back after the Promised Day, but I had gotten discouraged over the years. Now, my reluctance seemed pointless and was hurting my family. I couldn’t hold Mida back.

“You won’t. I’ll be right beside you the whole time.” I thought back to the vigil on the first night of the wedding ceremonies. Most of my meditation had been on the future of Ishval as a whole, rather than my own, which wasn’t how that was supposed to go. “I’m not sure what I can do, now.” There was still a great deal of construction happening and I would return to helping with that after two more days of the Mekhami.

“What about the various levels of infrastructure you talked about with Col. Miles? Could you do something like that?” She pulled back and fixed her hair, gently running her hands through it to come over her shoulder. I was distracted for a moment while I remembered what her hair felt like in my hands.

Looking away from her, I thought about it. I wasn’t suited for leadership, that much was obvious. I preferred a much more personal approach to helping Ishval move forward. I had no interest in learning anything about medicine, beyond the basic wound care. But what about our own law-enforcement? If anything, I was suited for that, but I still wasn’t sure that my brethren would listen to me. After all, I only rejoined them just over one year ago.

“What is it?” Mida asked. She must have seen something in my expression.

“Ishval could use it’s own law-enforcement organization. We don’t have significant amounts of crime, but it would be helpful to have people to resolve petty disputes.”

She raised an eyebrow. “If that’s what you want to do, why are you so hesitant about it?”

I saw the word ‘traitor’ painted on my wall and remembered the looks and whispers of my people when they saw me with the military. Osman’s words still stuck in my head - _you’ll never be accepted here_. I knew in my mind that he had been wrong; I’d since rejoined my people, become a member of the Council, gotten married, and even influenced a change in the doctrine of Ishvalla. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that this would be too much for people to accept - a man who had deliberately left the path of Ishvalla coming back and enforcing the very laws he had broken.

“I don’t know if I’m the right person for that task.” Mida hated the way I thought about myself, and I didn’t want her to worry any more than she already was. There was no need to drag it out. “I’ll bring it up at the Council meeting tomorrow and see what they think.”

Mida nodded. “Good. If you don’t, I will.” She stood up, stretching out her back. “I need to start cooking for tonight. Yasef said he wanted _maraq_ , and that needs to sit for a while.”

“Do you need any help?” I asked.

“Not right now, but could you bring out the bigger table at some point? Oh, and get the _kargidali_ down from the shelf?” I followed her into the kitchen.

* * *

 

**Hawkeye**

Breda had come to the office early that morning to finalize the presentation of the new constitution to the parliament committee. The meeting had not appeared on the official schedule, to prevent any unforeseen interference, so the only notice about it had been a memo sent from office to office. While the fuhrer and he talked, I went over the possible members of my team.

Damiano Suero, who had served under Mustang during the Ishvallan War and helped us during the coup, decided to choose the officer career path and was now a warrant officer serving in the East under Lt. Gen. Hayes. He was skilled at close combat in urban areas. Then there was 1st Lt. Maria Ross. She’d had to work her way back up from corporal after re-enlisting. Her resolve was second to none. However, she had been working as a liaison to Xing, and seemed content doing that. As much as I would value her on my team, I needed to make sure she would want to transfer. In case Lt. Ross didn’t work out, I was considering 2nd Lt. Julia Brasher, who had been transferred to Central during the last year of Grumman’s administration. Brasher and Ross shared similar talents, but Brasher had a false reputation for being a brute. She was over six feet tall and brawny, but her file suggested she had more of a knack for administrative work than combat. I was also thinking about Sgt. Rahela Makhar. She had been in the first class of the academy to allow Ishvallans in the year after the Promised Day. I’d only met her once, but in that meeting, she made her wishes clear. She was aiming to become a general and take Eastern Command. She reminded me of Gen. Armstrong with her stubborness, but she smiled more often. I’d hoped that Lt. Fuery would join my team as well, but I hadn’t spoken to him yet. And if Ross agreed to join my team, then W.O. Brosch would follow her, as usual.

I couldn’t shake the idea that the fuhrer was urging me to put together my own team to prepare me for a transfer out of his office. His plans were coming together with a faster pace, and once the new constitution was passed and elections were held, the very last objective would be within sight. I frowned and looked up from the files. I had sworn to follow him until the end, and no amount of pushing me away was going to change that.

He and Breda came out of his office with several documents in their hands. “We’re off to the hearing,” the fuhrer said, adjusting the folders under his arm. “Make sure you send out the memo I talked about yesterday before going to lunch.”

“Of course, sir. Good luck,” I answered. Breda smiled and nodded at me as they left. I opened the top desk drawer and exchanged the files on my team for a slip of paper with a list of names. There would be no memo, but rather a private conversation with each of the people listed. They were the ones selected to be a part of Operation Fireworks. I folded up the paper and slipped it into my pocket.

The first person on the list was Major Armstrong. Breda would talk to him after the hearing, so I skipped to the next person: Col. Focker. He worked in the Investigation Dept. and had access to the master schedule of operations, or what resources were where when. In the office, books were stacked against the walls near the doors to the workrooms and no one was sitting at the desk, which was covered with stacks of completed reports.

“Oh, Col. Hawkeye.” Turning around, I saw Sheska standing in the hallway with a stack of books in her hands. “Can I help you?”

Moving out of her way, I smiled at her. “Do you need help with those books?”

She stepped around me into the room and shook her head. “No, they aren’t that heavy. Besides, they’re just going right here.” She dropped them onto a stack of books next to Room 4. I wondered if she’d be using all of the books in that stack for one project. It was up to her elbows.

“Have you seen Col. Focker? I was hoping to check something in the Warden investigation.”

Sheska brought her hand up to her chin. “Hmm. I haven’t seen him in the past hour or so. But he should be in his office. Here, I’ll check.” She walked around the desk to the only room not marked as a workroom and knocked.

“Yes?” Focker’s voice came through the door and Sheska poked her head in. After a few seconds, Focker came into the office.

“Col. Hawkeye, I wasn’t expecting you. What can I do for you?” He greeted me with a smile. He always seemed so relaxed, taking everything in stride, unlike someone else I knew.

“If you’re not too busy, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you.” I didn’t like to be vague, but there was too great a risk of someone overhearing the conversation out here.

“I’ve got some time. Come on in.” He waved his arm for me to follow him.

* * *

 

**Kaliq**

The Council met for the first time in the Gathering House in Kanda. Tradition stated that they would alternate meeting places between the districts, but until now, they had been meeting solely in the Gunja Gathering House. Mida and I were happy about this change, as we lived in Kanda.

Cemal was waiting for us outside, his arms crossed. Agniya stood next to him. “Agniya! What are you doing here?” Mida asked.

“I have an idea to bring to the Council,” she said.

I frowned. “You could have mentioned it to us last night and let us present your idea.” Ordinarily, you had to obtain permission from the head priest to sit in on the Council if you weren’t a member, and I wasn’t sure Agniya had done that.

Agniya shook her head. “It’s my idea. I want to be the one in charge of what happens to it.”

Faiza walked up to us. “It’s too chilly to talk out here. I had to walk all the way here and I’m going to have to walk all the way back. Let’s go inside and get started.” Cemal made a scared face behind the woman’s back before we followed her inside.

Karimi, Izmat, and Kammani sat on the mats around the lamp in the middle of the room, but I didn’t see my master anywhere. Kammani smiled as we entered. “Here come the newlyweds! And you’ve brought a friend.”

Mida blushed and took her place next to Kammani. Cemal pulled out an extra mat and I helped him rearrange the unused mats to include it in the circle. Faiza sat next to Karimi, whispering something to him. Karimi shook his head, eyeing Agniya with apprehension.

“Your name is Agniya, isn’t it?” Izmat asked. He wasn’t smiling, but his expression wasn’t as hostile as Karimi’s.

“Yes, _maliqal_.” She bowed her head to him. Cemal sat down on the mat, but Agniya remained standing. I was relieved she didn’t sit down yet.

“What is your business here?” Karimi asked, his tone much harsher.

Agniya turned her head to him, but did not raise her eyes. “I only wished to bring an idea to the Council.” I should have known that she could handle facing them. She might be a little loud sometimes, but she had been raised in a family with close ties to the temple. Both her uncle and brother had been monks.

“Then please, join us.” Elyakim- _malim_ entered the hall from one of the side rooms and smiled at Agniya. She bowed slightly to him before lowering herself onto the mat between Cemal and me. Elyakim- _malim_ welcomed us before sitting down and opening the meeting.

“What is it you wanted to bring before us, Agniya?” Kammani asked.

Agniya cleared her throat. “Before the attack on this Gathering House, my wife, _ramat Ishvalla aliyaq_ , and Mida ran a school here. Mida and I are planning to start that again, once the building is finished and we have gathered supplies. I know that there is a similar system in Gunja, but not in the other districts. I would like to propose an education system that will apply to all of Ishval. Ishvallan children are growing up with piecemeal knowledge of our heritage, and most have never had any official education because of Amestrians excluding them on account of their race. It’s not enough to rebuild the buildings and move back into our homes. We have to prepare our children for the future.”

“That certainly is a nice idea,” Faiza said, “and far be it from me to discourage the progression of any education, but having an education system with little else to support it will only collapse on itself. Right now, we just don’t have the infrastructure for such a project.” Karimi nodded.

Mida distracted me with her elbow in my side. I jumped in surprise and everyone looked to me. “Do you have something to say, Kaliq?” Elyakim- _malim_ asked.

“Faiza is right. However, I think it’s time for us to create our own infrastructure which could support an education system. Ishval is ready for the next step, as evidenced by Agniya’s initiative.” Mida shot me a look when I stopped, displeased that I hadn't pushed forward. I didn’t feel like it was the right time for me to bring up my own concerns, though.

“But what does infrastructure even _mean_?” Cemal asked. “We are still a region of Amestris and completely dependent on the military. Sure, we were the ones who prosecuted Osman a few months ago, but does that qualify as having a judicial system separate from Amestris? And are we trying to be separate from Amestris?”

“Cemal,” my master said calmly, “you bring up an excellent point. We do need to discuss the future relationship between Ishval and Amestris. However, our guest came to us to talk about an education program. For now, let’s discuss what we would need for that. I am assuming that no one opposes the idea of creating such an institution?” When no one said anything to the contrary, he continued. “Now then, what do we need for an education system on that scale?”

Karimi cleared his throat. “We would need teachers, and someone to organize the teachers. If we want one school in each district, then we’d need to make sure we had buildings to accommodate that. I don’t see why we’d need more than that.”

“But what would we teach them?” Faiza rebutted. “The teachers would need to come up with a standard list of subjects to be taught. Not to teach everyone the same thing at the same time, but to make sure that all of our bases are covered in each school.”

Kammani spoke up. “Before the war, the schools were run out of the temples. It sounds like we’re planning for something else, and I’m not saying that we shouldn’t, but why don’t we look at other cultures’ education systems before we make any big decisions. Agniya, I don’t imagine you thought we would reach a conclusion tonight, right?”

Agniya shook her head fervently. “No, I just wanted to start the discussion to get us to that point. I understand that this will take some time.”

“Good. Thank you for bringing this to us. You have given us a lot to think about.” Izmat nodded gruffly to her and she smiled.

“Thank you for agreeing to listen to me. I would like to be included on further conversations about the education system, if possible.” Agniya looked to Elyakim- _malim_.

He smiled at her. “You will be. For now, though, the Council needs to move on to other matters. Thank you, Agniya.” She bowed again and left the Gathering House.

Once she was gone, Kammani let out a chuckle. “I don’t think any of us were expecting to discuss Ishval’s possible independence from Amestris today.” Mida turned to smile at me.

“Why not?” she asked. “Is there something more important we need to address today?” She looked around at each of us. Before anyone answered, she said, “All right. What do we think about it? Do we want Ishval to be independent again?”

* * *

 

**Hawkeye**

The day after the parliament hearing, I found a letter addressed to Fuhrer Mustang slipped under the office door. I set my bag down next to the desk and held the envelope up to the light before opening it. All I could see was a slip of paper, so I got a letter opener from the desk and ripped through the top. Sure enough, it was exactly like the other threatening letters.

 

> _Fuhrer Mustang,_
> 
> _The changes you are proposing to the constitution are unacceptable. This is your final warning. Remember what you almost lost during our last attack and consider if that’s really worth it._

> _ASO_

 

I reread the letter several times. Was the last line talking about me? If it was, how did they find out about us? If it wasn’t, who was it about? I walked around the desk and opened one of the filing cabinets where the other files on the investigation were. Pulling out one of the folders, I compared the writing on the newest letter to the older letters. It was slightly different, but the majority of the letters looked the same.

The fuhrer walked in while I was poring over the letters. “Colonel?”

“Sir.” Raising my eyes to his, I let a sliver of fear show through and saw him catch it with his own expression. Within minutes, we’d alerted our makeshift team about the new development.

“I’m getting you a security detail,” Mustang said after we’d finished contacting everyone.

I sighed loudly and pursed my lips. “That isn’t necessary.”

“Col. Hawkeye, this letter could be interpreted as a direct threat on your life. This is not a suggestion. As your commanding officer and fuhrer of Amestris, you are not to go anywhere without an armed security detail. Are we clear?” He stared me down with eyes just as hard as mine.

My mind whirled as I tried to process all of this. He obviously thought that the letter was talking about me, but I wasn’t quite convinced. A lot of people were put in danger during the last attack. I may have been the worst injured (of those who survived), but it could have just as easily been someone else. But if it was talking about me, then they were using me to get to him, something I was getting tired of. Thinking about the security detail, it wouldn’t hurt to have them around, and since I never left the fuhrer’s side, they would essentially be protecting him as well.

“Yes, sir.”

The Parliament Committee on the Constitution was meeting today to go over the changes to the constitution after the presentation yesterday, and Mustang didn’t feel that he could miss it, despite the letter. He did, however, ensure that the soldiers assigned to my detail were present before he left. I felt slightly better when I saw that Havoc was among them, but still annoyed. The fuhrer returned an hour later and we all ate lunch in the dining room, which was somewhat of an ordeal for the staff, who weren’t expecting such a large crowd. After lunch, we brought out the files on the investigation and called to check on those we had under watch. No one reported anything unusual with them.

A few hours later, while we were going through the paperwork originally scheduled for today, Lt. Fuery ran into the office, causing all of the guards to jump up and grab their weapons. This didn’t seem to faze Fuery, though, who just gasped to catch his breath.

“Stand down,” I ordered, although I saw that most of them had already done so. “What is it?”

“Elicia. She’s been kidnapped.”


	33. Smother

**February 1920**

 

**Hawkeye**

“Elicia. She’s been kidnapped.”

Time froze and my body wouldn’t move for a second. Taking a breath, I asked Fuery to repeat what he’d said.

“Elicia Hughes has been abducted.” His face reddened and his eyes filled with tears. The other soldiers looked to me.

I closed my eyes briefly, stabilizing myself before taking action. Snapping my head back up, I ordered, “Lt. Fuery, sit. Sgt. Vance, get Lt. Fuery some water. W.O. Boyd, go to Col. Focker in Investigations and tell him we have an incoming child abduction case, first priority, and then come back here. Lt. Underwood, go to Capt. Breda in Logistics and tell him we need another shipment of film. When he asks how we went through it all so quickly, respond the soldiers used it for personal reasons. After that, give the exact same message to Major Armstrong. Lt. Col. Havoc, you and I will tell Fuhrer Mustang. The rest of you, stay in this office. Do not tell anyone else what is going on. Dismissed.” The soldiers, save two, scrambled to follow my orders as I stood up from my desk.

Havoc stepped beside me as we approached the door. “We don’t know all the details, yet,” he warned.  
“I know,” I answered. “But if we wait to tell him, he won’t react well.”

He scoffed, but when I looked at him, his eyes were wide with fear. “I don’t think anyone could react well to this.”

I knocked on the door and heard him shout for us to come in. I took a deep breath and turned the handle. He had the draft of the constitution spread out over his desk, marked up with the changes the committee had made. He glanced at us over his shoulder as Havoc closed the door behind us. “What is it?”

“Sir, please sit down,” I said, knowing he could hear everything in my tone.

Sure enough, he turned around to face me, frowning. When he met my eyes, something in him clicked into place and he swallowed. He walked around his desk and sat down. “What’s wrong?”

“Elicia has been abducted.” Neither Havoc nor I changed our positions as I spoke. The fuhrer’s jaw went slack and his breathing quickened. Before he said anything, I said, “We don’t have much information right now, but Fuery delivered the message himself. He’s in my office right now, recovering from shock.”

Mustang leaned forward in his chair, bowing his head. His eyes were wide and unfocused. He opened his mouth to let out a stilted sigh as he brought his left hand up to his face. As we stood waiting for him to respond, someone knocked on the door. Mustang didn’t respond, so I opened it to see Fuery on the other side.

As I stepped aside to let him in, Fuery said, “I apologize for my outburst earlier; I was overwhelmed.” Once he was inside the office, I closed the door again. “I wasn’t able to relay all of the information available earlier, sir. Gracia had picked up Elicia from school. They were walking home when a military car pulled up beside them and two soldiers got out. They tried to convince Gracia to let them take Elicia with them, but she resisted. One of them grabbed Elicia’s arm and pulled her away while the other shoved Gracia to the ground. She hit her head and lost consciousness, but she’s fine, now; she’s awake and in the hospital.”

Not once while Fuery spoke did the fuhrer move. After a few moments when Fuery had finished, when he still hadn’t said anything, I nodded to the two officers. Fuery lowered his eyes with grief and Havoc patted me on the shoulder as they left, understanding that the fuhrer needed some personal assistance to process the situation. When the door had shut completely, I walked around his desk and knelt in front of him, taking his hand. I said nothing, waiting for him.

He took an almost gasping breath, like he hadn’t been breathing properly, and collapsed on himself. I reached up to catch him, shushing him softly. “I did this,” he whispered, “It’s my fault.” He said nothing else, turning his head toward me as I held him. He buried his face in my shoulder.

Stroking the back of his head, I said, “No, this isn’t your fault. The only people to blame are the people that took her. The only thing you did was try to create a better future.” He wrapped an arm around me and clung to my back. “I know you’re scared, Roy, but we need to get to work. Come on.” I pulled away gently.

He nodded and sat up straight, rearranging his jacket. Clearing his throat, he stood up, but he still had that hollow, lost expression in his eyes. “Make sure my schedule is cleared for the rest of today and tomorrow. I’ll speak with Fuery again and get Focker to put together a special team. Then, we’re going to the hospital.”

Stepping out of his way and into my usual spot, I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

* * *

** Kaliq **

“That was an interesting meeting the other night.” Cemal stood a few feet from me at the worksite in the Yeshura section of the Daliha district. I checked with the man working beside me before taking a break to talk to Cemal. We’d been working for about three hours, and I hadn’t taken a break since we’d started, so I could spare a minute.

“It was.” The council had continued for an hour after Agniya left, going back and forth about independence. I never brought up anything about my involvement in that, which only annoyed Mida. In the end, we had decided to bring it up at the next meeting after taking some time to think about it. Perhaps that’s what Cemal came for.

He crossed his arms. “You never said what you thought about independence. You only talked about the logistics of it.”

“I know that the original intentions of the reconstruction were for Ishval to someday regain independence from Amestris. Having traveled around Amestris, I learned enough of their customs to know that ours are different enough that trying to maintain both under the same authority would only result in more conflict.” I thought about bringing up what Fuhrer Mustang had said to me shortly before he left for Central, but decided against it. The opinions of an Amestrian had no place in the discussion about our future.

“So you’re in favor of independence?”

Remembering what Mida had said to Miles after the raid on the Wardens, I smiled. “Yes, but I want to make sure Ishval is ready before we make anything official.”

Cemal nodded. “That seems to be the general consensus. What do you think needs to be done before we can start cutting ties?”

I looked over to the work I had left, reluctant to spend too much daylight away from it. The rains would begin in an hour or so, and we would have to stop for the day. “I do want to talk to you about this, but I should keep working for now. Come to our house for dinner and we can talk about it then.”

Cemal looked up at the sky through the newly-placed rafters. The sky was still bright, but clouds were forming off to the southwest. He smiled at me and shook his head. “It still amazes me how dedicated you are. Everyone else takes whatever breaks they can get, but you just keep going. Don’t overwork yourself.”

I returned his smile. “You didn’t complain when we were younger.”

“Yeah, well, you got me out of a lot of trouble, picking up my slack. I’ll see you later.”

I went back to work, passing up the interior _chirpiq_ bricks that made up the inner layer of the walls. We didn’t time to put the _malashan_ mixture over it that day, but by the time we finished work for the day, we had all four walls up. We piled into the truck and went back to Kanda, dropping off those who lived in Gunja along the way. The rains broke right when we stopped the truck at the outskirts of Kanda. Pulling up my hood, I walked down the road toward my house, knowing I’d be soaked by the time I got there.

As I passed by the Gathering House, a soldier waved me down. “Excuse me! Col. Miles asked me to deliver this to you.” He pulled a letter out of his jacket, careful to keep it under the umbrella he was holding. I wasn’t quite soaked through, so I took it from him and buried it under my _arkhaluq_. I thanked him and we both rushed off, trying to get out of the rain.

* * *

** Hawkeye **

Gracia was groggy when we arrived. The doctors explained that she had been hysterical, so they had given her a light sedative. They couldn’t give her too much though; she had a concussion. Other than a pale face and restlessness, the fuhrer gave no sign of his emotional state after that moment in his office. He went in first, alone. I waited outside with Havoc and Col. Focker, who would be in charge of the abduction case.

I tried to keep my thoughts from wandering, ignoring the flashes of Elicia’s face as she played with Amete or showed off a new dress. Right now, she was a case. I couldn’t afford to let my emotions get the better of me. She couldn’t afford it. I could see Havoc blinking more than usual, his tell that he was upset. I couldn’t read Col. Focker, but his mouth was set in a frown and his eyelids were lowered.

After a few moments, the fuhrer came back outside, his eyes never focusing on anything for more than a few seconds. I had tried to convince him that this wasn’t his fault, but I was having trouble convincing myself. It’s true that the people who kidnapped her were the ones who made the decision to do so, but if Mustang had not been in a relationship with Gracia, Elicia would not have been on their radar.

“She is a little disoriented, but she can answer your questions.” His voice sounded steady and he spoke clearly, but he looked like the wind had been knocked out of him. I felt the urge to take his hand and take him away from all this, but again, I reminded myself that this was a case.

In the room, Gracia’s appearance would have torn me apart if I had not properly prepared. It amazed me that the fuhrer was still standing. Gracia had bits of blood in her hair and scratches all over her face, one large enough to merit stitches. A nasty bruise turned her right cheekbone into a storm cloud. Her left wrist was in a splint. But the worst part was not her injuries. She had aged twenty years in a day. Her eyes moved slowly around the room, her breathing laborious. Wrinkles had appeared around her frown where there had previously been none. Every movement seemed simultaneously exhausted and terrified.

Col. Focker approached her slowly, maintaining a sense of authority while conveying sympathy. “Mrs. Hughes, I’m Col. Randolph Focker, the officer in charge of this case. If you’re up to it, I’d like to ask you a few questions.”

Gracia nodded slowly. Mustang moved to the other side of the bed to stand next to her and I followed. Havoc shut the door behind us. Col. Focker looked around at us, ensuring the security of the room, before turning back to Gracia.

“Can you go over what happened one more time?”

Gracia swallowed, looking away from us, down at the bed. “I had picked up Elicia from school and we were walking home. We had just turned onto Park Street when a car pulled up. It looked just like the ones the military uses, and two people in military uniforms got out, so I thought it must be the military. I didn’t recognize the soldiers, though. It was a man, late 30’s or early 40’s, not quite as tall as Lt. Col. Havoc, dark hair, and a woman a few years younger, maybe 5’8”. She had light brown hair in a ponytail, or maybe a braid. She told us that they needed to take Elicia into custody for her protection. When I asked why, she said it was classified. Then the man stepped forward and grabbed her arm. Elicia was scared; she didn’t want to go with them, and I tried to hold onto her, but the man pulled her away from me. I asked where they were taking her, but they ignored me, so I ran after the woman. She twisted my arm behind my back and pushed me onto the ground. That’s the last thing I remember.”

While she had spoken, Mustang clenched his fists, his arms trembling when Gracia talked about Elicia being pulled away. Havoc and Focker remained still while she talked, letting Gracia access her memories more easily. When she finished, Focker shifted slightly, bringing her attention back to the present.

“Do you remember what rank the soldiers were? Did you see what their shoulders looked like?” Havoc opened his notebook, but Col. Focker made no move to write her answers down.

Gracia looked back down at the blankets, shifting her eyes around as she tried to remember. “I don’t remember very well. I think the woman had fewer lines than the man and only one star. The man …” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get a good look at his uniform.”

“That’s all right, Mrs. Hughes. The details you’ve remembered so far are very helpful. Had you noticed anyone unusual in your life recently? Or anyone that struck you as odd?”

A nurse opened the door and gestured at Fuhrer Mustang to come outside. He turned to me and I nodded. He needed to stay with her for now. I would take care of everything else. The exchange didn’t seem to bother Gracia, though. She started answering the questions as I exited with the nurse.

Sgt. Vance stood just outside the door, twitching at every sound. When he saw me, after jumping slightly, he saluted. “Col. Hawkeye, sir, I have an urgent message from Lt. Fuery.” We had left the other three from my security detail in the office, just so someone could help Fuery hold down the fort.

The nurse excused herself and walked off to the nurses’ station to leave us alone. I turned so that Sgt. Vance would be facing the wall when he relayed the message. “What is it?”

“Someone called the fuhrer’s office directly, with no operator connection, and asked to speak with Fuhrer Mustang. They claimed to be a member of the ASO with information about Elicia.”

I blinked and frowned. “Were they calling for a ransom?”

Vance shook his head. “No, they were calling to snitch.”

All the stress of the situation came out in a breathy laugh. Finally, some good news. “Is Lt. Fuery still in contact with them?”

“No, but they did give us the names of those involved in the abduction, and we have a way to get in touch with them again.”

“Thank you, sergeant.” I smiled at the young man. “Return to the office. I’ll be there shortly.” He saluted me again and walked off. My shoulders fell and I felt my chest heave with relief. We could do this. Elicia would be okay and we would take down the ASO. After months of stress and fear and violence, we could end this.


	34. Calescent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Hawkeye portion of this chapter was written as my entry for Royai Week Day 5: Conspiracy.

**February 1920**

** Kaliq **

The envelope the soldier had given me consisted of two things: a note from Miles and a smaller envelope addressed to Miles from Briggs. I changed into a fresh _arkhaluq_ before reading them. If it were urgent, Miles would have said so. Mida was reading the note with a frown and furrowed brow when I came back into the main room.

“I spoke to Cemal earlier. He wants to talk about the council meeting, so he’ll be coming for dinner.” She nodded automatically, not listening to me. “What is it?” I asked, startling her.

“Osman sent Col. Miles a letter,” she said. Sitting next to her on the bench, I twisted to read the note as she held it out.

 

> _Kaliq, Osman sent me this letter about his time working at Briggs. He addressed part of it to you. You can read the whole letter if you wish, but the part for you is on the second page, last paragraph. ~Miles_

 

The envelope held a photo as well as the letter, showing Osman with a group of soldiers, most of whom I didn’t recognize, although I could see Capt. Henschel off to the side. Osman was wearing the white coat and hat that the patrol wore, with a huge smile on his face.

The letter was several pages long, which surprised me. The Osman I knew couldn’t read Amestrian; he had refused to learn. The section for me was written in Ishvallan, with much better handwriting.

 

> _Brother Kaliq, I am writing to apologize to you for the words I spoke against you last year. Col. Miles has written to me about the changes happening in our homeland, and I regret that I am not there to take part in them beside my brothers. Fort Briggs is a very interesting place, though, and my eyes have been opened. My sentence perfectly fit my crimes. Gen. Armstrong and Capt. Henschel have me working as hard here as I did when I first returned to Ishval. I hated it here at first, but now I know that I am going to miss the people and the place when I come home in two months, although I might not miss midnight patrols. My esteem of you has risen for living up here for a month during the winter, especially in the slums. The soldiers up here respect you so much, as much as they do Col. Miles. Give my regards to your new family, and congratulations on your marriage. I look forward to dining with you after I return._

The letter continued in Amestrian, addressing Miles again. I smiled. Osman had changed up in the north. Once he returned, his natural charisma would be very helpful with all of the new projects. I looked to Mida, who was examining the picture again.

“Did you read it?” I asked.

She nodded and shifted the picture so I could see it better. “Do you know any of these soldiers?”

“Only one.” I pointed. “That’s Capt. Miron Henschel. He is third-in-command at Fort Briggs and helped me get back on my feet after the coup. I don’t know the others.”

Mida nodded and stared at the picture a little longer before setting it on the table. “I’d better get dinner going if Cemal will be joining us. Would you mind giving me a hand?”

* * *

** Hawkeye **

The fuhrer hadn’t reacted to the news about the snitch when I told him. He seemed wary, and helped me to remember that this could be a trap. We agreed to say nothing to Gracia about it for now, and he would stay with her while I went back to the office. Havoc came with me, which did disturb the interview slightly, but I knew Col. Focker could handle it.

Lt. Fuery, Sgt. Vance, W.O. Boyd, and Lt. Underwood were waiting for us, sitting around the work table. When we entered, Fuery rose and asked, “How’s Gracia?”

“She’s fine,” I answered. “The doctors sedated her, so she’s somewhat disoriented, but she was answering Col. Focker’s questions.” We hung up our coats and joined them at the table. “What’s this I hear about someone from the ASO contacting us?”

Fuery sighed. “I’m afraid Sgt. Vance may have made it sound better than it is. Someone did contact us, but under the codename Sodalis. The names they gave us belonged to people who supposedly died during the Promised Day. I haven’t tried contacting them again; we decided to wait for you to join us.”

Havoc crossed his arms and frowned. “I don’t like the sound of that code name. Reminds me of someone I’d rather forget.”

It took me a second, but then I remembered Havoc’s two-timing, almost-immortal girlfriend. “Sodalis is a Xerxian word, meaning associate or conspirator. I doubt they have anything to do with them.” To Fuery, I said, “Let’s wait a little longer before contacting them. Were they a man or a woman?”

“I’m not sure. They could be either.”

Nodding, I took a deep breath, trying to think. The phone rang, interrupting my thoughts before I could even begin. I looked to Fuery to answer it.

“Fuhrer Mustang’s office, Lt. Kain Fuery speaking.” His face paled. “Yes, put him through.” Covering the receiver with his hand, he whispered, “It’s one of the names Sodalis gave us.”

I frowned. This meant that the information Sodalis gave us was useless. The ASO wouldn’t give us anything that they thought we could use. We needed to get Sodalis to work on our terms, not theirs, if they were going to be helpful at all. Havoc started the recording device they had hooked up to the phone earlier in the day.

“Hello?” Fuery asked. His eyes were wide, but his voice was steady. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid he’s not in at the moment. May I take a message?” His eyes flashed up to me in shock. “One moment please.” He pulled the receiver away from his mouth and addressed me. “He wants to talk to you.”

 _Me?_ I held out my hand for the receiver. I stared at it for a moment before putting it to my ear. “This is Col. Hawkeye.”

A familiar voice spoke. “Hello, colonel. This is Lt. Col. Gamelan. It’s been a while.” I knew that voice somehow. I even recognized his self-assured tone.

“Yes, it has. Almost five years.” I couldn’t let him know anything about the investigation or Sodalis. He picked a good soldier to impersonate, though, considering how loyal Gamelan had been to Bradley.

“I’d like to meet and catch up on what’s been going on with you and Fuhrer Mustang. And I think I have some information you might be interested in.” His smugness repulsed me.

“That sounds great. What time would work for you?” I kept my voice level, even amiable despite the anger building up inside.

“Do you have some time tonight? I’m pretty busy tomorrow, and I’m sure you will be, too.”

“I don’t think the fuhrer will be able to make it, but I’m available. You can catch up with him some other time, maybe.” There was no way in hell I was going to let Mustang anywhere near what was going down with the ASO right now. “Where would you like to meet?”

Fake-Gamelan paused, longer than what could be assumed natural. He was probably conferring with whoever else was there. He had lost some of his confidence when he answered. “Let’s get away from the office. I’m sick of looking at the same people all the time. How about we get dinner at Maggie’s? We could go for a walk afterward, if you’d like.”

 _Is he_ flirting _with me?_ “Sounds good. Let’s meet at Maggie’s at 6:30.”

I heard him chuckle and my skin crawled. “It’s a date.”

* * *

** Kaliq **

Cemal had ideas of his own for new projects. He wanted to find a new way for the temples to be community centers, if they would no longer be places for teaching. But as usual, his ideas were varied and shallow. His best idea was that the temples would double as courts, if the gathering houses would be schools. I tried to get him to focus on that, but he wanted to get all of his ideas out before discussing any of them. Mida gave me an amused smile as she cleared the food.

“I mean, I personally don’t have any medical knowledge, as you know, but an infirmary would be a good idea, right?”

I nodded. “Yes, but we already have an infirmary. It’ll remain an infirmary after the military leaves, so we don’t need the temples to become infirmaries. And infirmaries need to be kept cleaner than a temple would be.”

Cemal frowned and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I didn’t think about that. So how do you think we should use the space?”

Mida came back in and sat on the mat beside me as I answered. “Holding trials in the temple is your best idea, I think. The arrangement suits them as well as it does worship, and as all judgement comes from Ishvalla, it seems fitting to use a place already dedicated to him.”

Mida nodded. “And if Kaliq’s idea comes to fruition, we’ll need a place for trials.” I twitched and gave her a glance.

Cemal clasped his hands across his legs and raised an eyebrow at me. “You haven’t said anything about this. What’s your idea?”

I crossed my arms and closed my eyes. I would have rather talked to Elyakim-malim about this first, but I supposed it didn’t truly matter. “I thought that one of the crucial institutions for our independence is law enforcement. Once the military is gone, we’ll need something to maintain order and resolve conflicts among ourselves.”

He laughed. “And that fits in perfectly with the judicial system idea we were just talking about. Thanks for bringing it up.” He nodded to Mida, who smirked at me. “So how are we going to put that in place?”

“We would first need to decide how we want to use such an institution, as Amestris doesn’t have an organization separate from the military, as ours would be. After that, we would need people, volunteers to start with, and we’d have to train them.”

“Mmhm,” Cemal hummed, “And where do you fit into this?”

I sighed and Mida jumped in before I could answer. “We had talked about Kaliq overseeing the whole thing. He would be in charge of it.”

His face lit up as he leaned forward. “That’s a great idea! You’d be perfect for that. Why haven’t you brought this up?” I tried to get a word in, but he dived in, spewing out ideas for a law enforcement agency that didn’t even exist yet, even inventing stories of my yet undone and unlikely heroics. After a while, even Mida’s smile seemed forced.

Cemal finally stopped to yawn, realizing just how long he had stayed. It still took him several minutes to leave, asking about the construction in Yeshura and Mida’s daycare program. Eventually, the curtain settled behind him and both Mida and I took a deep breath.

Mida leaned into my side, and I wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry I brought it up without asking you first.”

“It’s all right. I wouldn’t have ever said anything if you hadn’t pushed me. Thank you.” She raised her head up to smile tiredly at me and I leaned down for a kiss.

* * *

** Hawkeye **

He certainly looked like Gamelan, with his strong, wide jawline and tall brow. He didn’t quite have the height that I remembered, though, plus his nose was too narrow. I swear I’d seen him before, but I couldn’t quite get it. My memory was usually pretty good when it came to faces.

Dinner was decent - the food was much better than the company. My ‘date’ acted like we really were on a first date, asking about my interests and discussing mutual acquaintances. When he reached for my hand across the table after we finished eating, it took everything I had not to pull my hand away. I smiled sweetly, all the while imagining putting bullets into every possible area that would kill him, slowly or otherwise. I could feel callouses similar to mine, meaning that this man was used to handguns.

Then it hit me and I felt my smile slip. He blinked and asked, “Something wrong?”

I withdrew my hand carefully before fixing my smile. “I just remembered that we have seen each other since the coup: back in November, at Fuhrer Grumman’s dinner party. You were on guard duty, weren’t you?” The memory of his smile as he assured me that the guards had the room covered came rushing back. It was no wonder I hadn’t been able to remember previously; most of that night was still a blur.

He cocked an eyebrow and casually pulled his hand back across the table. “I was. You looked lovely that night.”

The waiter came by with our check, and after a terrifying few minutes, we were heading out of the restaurant. I lost sight of Lt. Underwood, who was supposed to be trailing us. I knew I could handle him if the need arose, but it never hurt to know where your backup was at any given moment.

He offered his arm as we walked away, and I had no choice but to take it. I kept my right arm free, so I could reach the gun on my thigh if necessary. The street was fairly busy for a weeknight, but somehow, Gamelan or whatever his name was had found an empty park. A homeless man sat next to the gate with a basket sitting in front of him. He glanced up at us as we walked in, and I could tell he was in on the situation. I just didn’t know on which side.

My companion stopped to sit on a bench just out of earshot of the gate, overlooking a small pavilion. He patted the seat beside him with a smirk. The way he had arranged it, he could just as easily grab my gun as I could, if he knew where to look. He probably did. Glancing behind me, I saw the homeless man had stood in front of the gate, blocking the entrance. _Not on our side, then._

“Why don’t we drop the pretense?” Gamelan said. “You know I’m not Gamelan, that I’m a part of the ASO, and that we have something very important to you.” He put his arm around the back of the bench, away from my gun. “I don’t plan on anyone getting hurt tonight, and I think you feel the same way.”

Actually, I really wanted him to suffer at that particular moment, but there was no point. “What is it that you want?”

“Well, I’d really like for Mustang to resign as fuhrer, but I’m not positive we have a strong enough bargaining chip for that.” I tried not to think about what Mustang would do if faced with that choice. He continued, “For now, let’s settle for burying this whole constitution business. We can start there and then talk about the next step.”

I shook my head. “Tell me exactly what it would take for me to walk away with the girl right now.” I was done playing on their terms.

He scoffed. “A loaded gun plus backup with a loaded gun, a car, directions to her current location, which even I don’t have, and a shit-ton of luck, or …” He grinned. “Mustang’s broken heart on a platter. Literally.”

I raised my eyebrows and nodded appreciatively. “You have quite the appetite. I’m still full from the meal we just ate.”

He laughed and brought his arm down so that it was around my shoulders. I steeled myself against the disgust inspired by his gesture. “I like you. I’m glad I didn’t kill you the last time we met. Would have been a shame.”

“I can assure you, the feeling is not mutual.”

“Fair enough.” His smile faded as his hand gripped my shoulder much tighter than would be considered affectionate. “Little Elicia’s blood will be on your hands if you don’t meet our demands. The first arrangement is due in three days. You can pick which payment option you think is best. We’ll meet here again, at 7:00 in the evening. I don’t care if you come alone, but understand that if anything unfortunate happens during the exchange, you will never see her again.”

His voice, soft and smooth like the liquid used to unclog a toilet, nearly made me gag. “She’ll be here?”

He removed his arm from my shoulders and shrugged. “She’ll be within easy enough distance to transport her with few issues. Now if you’ll excuse me, Col. Hawkeye, I’ve got to go help that poor man out front.”

I snapped around to look at the gate and saw Lt. Underwood being held at gunpoint by the homeless man from before. Gamelan approached them and raised his hand. The other man lowered his gun and headed down the street, in the opposite direction from Gamelan.

I stood for a few minutes in the park, calming myself down and giving Lt. Underwood a chance to get the car. For the first time in a long time, I had no idea what Fuhrer Mustang was going to do.


End file.
